A Mingling of Magics
by Astraea802
Summary: New York, 2010: Dave, heir to Merlin's power, was already having a rough week. Then, his magic ring had to go and summon Merlin from the past! With the fate of the world at stake, can Merlin, Dave, and teenaged wizard Miles face their demons *and* save the world? What will they find in the process? AU, time travel, crossover, reincarnation, pre-3x12. Full summary inside.
1. Before We Begin

**A Mingling of Magics Introduction**

_It is October 2010, and Dave Stutler is having a rough week. After trying for ten years to forget the magical events of the birthday that landed him in therapy, the NYU physics major finds that the two sorcerers responsible for those events have returned, entangling him in a war that will decide the fate of the world. One in which he, the Prime Merlinean, is at the center. Dave, having finally had enough, was resolved to abandon his training… Until his magic ring dropped two strangers at his feet._

_The first is Miles, a 17-year-old Avalon High honors student and fellow fledgling magician, who has had his fair share of evil plots and destinies to deal with himself (though he won't go into details)._

_The second is… well… Merlin. Which does not bode well._

_As the three become involved in a battle of good and evil that has been raging since Merlin's era, they discover foes of Camelot's past, startling truths about their destinies, and a connection to each other that proves their meeting to be more than accidental. Time travel, crossover, and reincarnation fic. In Merlin's timeline, __ this takes place between Series 3's "The Sorcerer's Shadow" and "The Coming of Arthur, Part 1." _

_*.*.*.*.*.*.*_

_A/N: Hey there! I know this should be under crossovers, and I may put it there once I've finished, but I'm posting this on the main **Merlin** page so that it gets some notice. It's going to be a pretty short multi-chapter, and encompasses three continuities:_

_ In the **Merlin **universe, I'm setting Merlin's age at 20 here, based on the fact that in Series 4's opening, Merlin is now a young man rather than boy, and 21 is considered the age of manhood based on what happened with Arthur, making Merlin 20 in Series 3._

_ Dave Stutler is from **The Sorcerer's Apprentice, ** inspired by the famous **Fantasia** short, in which the 20-year-old NYU physics student is called upon to learn magic and save the world. He is 5' 11 ½".This takes place right after Becky's talk with Dave as he is about to give up magic, which I'm setting in late October 2010. I'm aiming for this fic not to mess up the rest of The Sorcerer's Apprentice plot too much. Let's just call it AU from that point onwards to be safe. _

_ Miles is from the 2010 Disney Channel Original Movie **Avalon High**, based on Meg Cabot's novel of the same name. The end of the movie is very different from the novel, and there will be major spoilers for this ending in the story. If you want to watch, you can find the whole movie on Youtube (the link is on my profile). The movie version centers around new girl Allie Pennington, who with Miles discovers a plot to destroy the school golden boy who's believed to be the reincarnation of King Arthur. The story takes place a few weeks after the movie's ending, which I figure to also be in October due to what I know about high school American football season (apologies if I'm wrong about this). Miles is probably 16 or 17 and is 5'5"._

_So, now that all the info dumping is out of the way, please move on to Part 1! Enjoy!_

_~*Astraea*_


	2. Part 1: The Apprentice

_Author's Note:_

_I don't own Merlin, The Sorcerer's Apprentice, or Avalon High._

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><p>Part 1: The Apprentice<p>

Manhattan could be described as impressive at any time of day, but only at night did it truly shine. Lights of every color glared and glimmered from windows, signs, taxi headlights, and billboards as far as the eye could see, like a sea of stars. In fact, when standing on top of it, the Chrysler Building seemed not to merely scrape the night sky, but to already be immersed in it, with the Empire State Building shining nearby as a beacon for miles around. Yet this majesty did little to soothe Dave Stutler's mind as he stared out at the city lights. The bitter fall breeze reached him much more easily up here, swirling around him and sinking into his bones. Nonetheless, if he had to be anywhere to sort out his problems, he figured this was the best place to do it. It gave him a different perspective on the city he traversed through every day, a city that, through good times (sunny days in Central Park, Christmastimes at Rockefeller Center, going out for a midnight snack after hours of working on his tesla coils) and bad (the Arcana Cabana episode which lead to his infamous nervous breakdown, that terrifying day a year after when smoke stretched across the sky and his mother tried to shield his eyes from the live television feed that the whole world was watching), was his home. And he needed a different perspective right now.

_"You saw the world in your own way."_

Becky's words kept echoing in Dave's head. He smiled. '_She likes me. She still likes me.'_ He shook his head, elated but bewildered. _Why _did she still like him? Earlier that evening, he had chased her away as he tried to explain why he wasn't ready for their date. He certainly couldn't say he'd royally screwed up an attempt to magically make cleaning utensils come to life and clean his lab in order to impress her, especially since said objects were currently flooding the place and ruining all his work. After that, he'd figured she would want nothing to do with him, that he wasn't worth her time.

And he really couldn't blame her if that was true. After all, what was he to her? A physics nerd who liked working with huge tesla coils in his spare time (though, he had managed to use said coils to put on quite an impressive light and music show for her). He was odd, and his roommate, Bennet, was the latest in a string of peers (ally and bully alike) to remind him of this fact consistently. But, it was what he loved. He couldn't deny that he had always been drawn to the science of how the world works, even way back when he was drawing King Kong on that school bus window to line up with the Empire State Building. And Becky had thought it was cool that he could figure out how to make something like that. She liked him for being different. And back then he had liked being different too. But if only Becky knew just _how _different he was, and how his love was ironically related to the one thing that he so thoroughly wanted out of his life right now: magic.

Magic ruined his life on his 10th birthday when he witnessed the good sorcerer Balthazar Blake and his nemesis, Maxim Horvath, dueling in the strange curio shop he'd stumbled upon during his field trip that day. But the evidence of the battle, as well as the sorcerers themselves, was magically swept away by an ancient urn the moment he tried to tell his teacher what had happened. The nervous breakdown that followed was still known in some parts of the tri-state area as "pulling a David Stutler." But, in his mind, the infamy was not the worst part of the whole mess. Nor was it the fact that he'd had to change schools. It was the fact that Becky, then and now the prettiest and nicest girl he'd ever met, had seen it all, and looked at him sadly as he was driven away. His normal life had been shattered from then on.

Worst. Birthday. _Ever._

Of course, his 20th birthday a few days ago was quick to take its place as his second-worst birthday ever, as both sorcerers had dropped back into his life, a life he had worked so hard to put back together in the 10 years they'd been trapped in that urn. And Horvath introduced a third psycho – Drake Stone, a famous illusionist who, in reality, was also an evil sorcerer. And a total jerk. The only thing that had made his birthday somewhat decent was seeing Becky again for the first time since that horrible day.

Dave leaned on the railing and sighed, closing his eyes. He had tried to learn magic as Balthazar requested. He really did. He even kind of liked it, and thought for a moment that maybe he was meant to do this as Balthazar said he was. But how could he be expected overcome the powerful, evil witch trapped inside that nesting doll, the Grimhold, when even _Merlin_ had died by her hand? How was he supposed to effortlessly do magic without the ring Merlin had created for Dave, his supposed successor, when he could barely grasp creating plasma bolts, which was elementary magic, _with_ the ring?

How could he be the Prime Merlinian?

Clearly, Balthazar believed (more like insisted) that he was, and wasn't giving him much choice in the matter. Balthazar was a lot like those fathers with such high expectations for their children they completely ignore the children's own desires. Of course, Balthazar was slightly more intense than any of those fathers for two reasons: 1. He was expecting Dave to literally save the world, and 2. He could throw freaking plasma bolts if he was dissatisfied.

"He doesn't get it," Dave muttered to the breeze, gripping the railing as he fought the leaden anxiety and exhaustion that threatened to pull him under. "He doesn't get how hard this is. I'm not like him. He_wanted_ to find me, however long it took. He _wanted _to be a sorcerer. I..." He sighed, glaring down at the weighty, dragon-shaped ring on his finger that proclaimed his so-called destiny. "... I never wanted this. Any of this." He brought the ring closer to his face until he could see a dim reflection of the spiky dark hair, pointed nose, and deep blue eyes in the emerald's surface. "I just want to be Dave. Not the Prime Merlinian. Not Dave Stutler, the basket case. Just Dave."

So why was he still so unwilling, after all these years, to just throw the ring away?

Dave clenched his fist, gaze still on the ring, then let his arm drop with defeat. He looked out into the sea of city lights and whispered, "I just wish someone could understand."

He shook his head. But just as he was about to admonish himself for how sappy he was being, the ring on his finger jerked. It quickly heated up as the emerald began glowing brighter than Dave had ever seen it glow before, a low humming reverberating in his ears. "Oh, this can't good!" He shook his hand and began shouting commands, trying to get it to stop. The wind began picking up around him, scattering bits of paper and debris across the ledge of the building. Suddenly, light filled Dave's vision, forcing him to shut his eyes. Then, the humming stopped. He saw the light disappear through his eyelids as he felt the ring cool on his finger. Hesitantly, Dave opened his eyes, his arms still raised in front of him. His eyes quickly scanned the ledge, not immediately seeing anything unusual. Then he glanced downwards.

He stared. "...What?"

Bodies.

There were two bodies lying unconscious in front of him.

Dave's jaw hung open as he tried to process this. "What – but how – and they – I didn't – it just – ?" He glared at the ring. "Seriously?"

*-.-*-.-*-.-*_-.-*-.-*-.-*-.-*-.-*-.-*-.-*-.-*-.-*_

_So, who do you think Dave just summoned? And why? Sorry this first part is mostly exposition for __**Sorcerer's Apprentice**__, but it's important. Hope you enjoyed it! Next part will be up soon. Please let me know what you think!_


	3. Part 2: The Wizard

_Hooray! Part 2 is done! It's a good deal longer than Part 1, so plenty to savor. I'd like to thank AsItThunders and Merlyn Pyndragon for beta-reading, as well as my friend, muzicdreamz, for being supportive. Thanks for being patient with me, and enjoy!_

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><p>Part 2: The Wizard<p>

Dave paced across the deck, head in his hands. His eyes darted from the tops of his Converse sneakers to the two guys still sprawled on the pavement. His brain was yelling at him (in a voice too much like Balthazar's for his liking) to check their pulses to see if they were even alive, but the main thought driving his actions, running through his brain and tumbling from his lips was, "What do I do? What do I do? What the HELL do I do?'" His head spun, and he felt for a moment he might join the other two on the ground until he heard –

"Urrrrrrgghh."

Dave's head snapped towards the bodies. The smaller one shifted his head. Dave immediately bolted over to him and bent down. The stranger had rather thick eyebrows and dark, curly hair. His smaller stature and hairless chin led Dave to think he was a few years younger than him, at least. Dave shook his shoulder a bit. "Kid? Hey, kid? You okay?"

_._

The first thing Miles Ambrosi thought as his mind stirred to consciousness was, '_Why must I keep waking up like this? It's seriously getting old.' _As if in response, his head throbbed in pain. Finding himself sprawled on the ground after another painful migraine was becoming a bit too typical these days. But, as Miles became aware of the cold and the hard surface (concrete? stone?) underneath him, he realized - the last thing he remembered was doing homework at the library.

So, what was he doing outside?

His eyes shot open, and he found himself staring at a stranger in a red sweatshirt leaning over him, whose terrified expression split into a nervous grin upon seeing Miles awaken. "You're not dead!" he gasped in relief. "Oh, thank God, that would have been really, really bad."

Miles blinked, unsure of how to respond. "Uh... yeah... it would be." He sat up, and the other guy responded by standing and taking a few steps back. Miles observed that he was lanky and half a foot taller, though probably not much older. He frowned. "What am I doing here?"

And the terrified expression was back. Dave wracked his brain. What was he supposed to say? "Ah... well," he began, "it's... you see... this isn't my fault!" Dave cursed in his head. Anything he could have said would have been better than _that._

Miles raised an eyebrow. "I … never said it was. " He stood up, wiping down his blue-and-gray argyle v-neck. "I just want to know what I'm doing here. And for that matter," he said, glancing around at the narrow landing lit by large spotlights, "where is 'here?'"

Dave grimaced, then decided he could at least tell the boy that much. He took a steadying breath and plowed ahead. "The top of the Chrysler building."

Miles stared, then smirked and crossed his arms. "The Chrysler building? Yeah right, that's in New York City." He wasn't going to fall for any practical jokes, especially one so impossible.

Dave, whose back was to the railing, smiled, stepped to the side, and gestured towards the skyline. "Don't believe me? See for yourself."

Miles glanced to where he was gesturing. It took him a moment to realize what he was looking at, but then recognized why there were so many lights and silhouettes of buildings beyond the edge of the landing. He rushed towards the railing, staring out at the magnificent glowing streets and skyscrapers. Then, upon seeing the largest building not too far away, his jaw dropped. "That's... that's the Empire State Building."

Dave rolled his eyes. "Well, obviously."

"But that means... I'm really in New York City!" Miles was grinning now.

Dave nodded, standing beside him. "I told you. Cool, right?"

"Very cool!" Miles muttered, breathless. "I've never been to New York before. Man, it's awesome from up here."

Dave nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"You come up here often?"

"Well, it's becoming a habit. A... sort of friend introduced me to this view not too long ago, but I've discovered it helps me sort things out in my twisted brain." He chuckled at his own joke, then frowned, a cold dread creeping on him as he realized what his "friend" would think of the situation. "Wait, kid, where exactly do you come from?" '_And how am I supposed to get you back?'_

Miles turned and glared at Dave. "'Kid?' _Really?" _he drawled in the bitter, haughty tone he always used in the face of those larger than him. "First of all, my name is Miles. Second, you call _me_ a kid? You barely look older than me. You're, what, 17? 18?"

Dave rolled his eyes. "Actually, I'm 20. Not old enough to drink, I admit, but still legally an adult." Because of his bony stature and his late growth spurt, he'd often been taken as younger than he was, which was annoying. "You, on the other hand, can't be older than 15," he said, studying the shorter boy. Based on his gangly limbs and large hands the boy was definitely still smack in the middle of his awkward adolescence, his voice certainly deep (heck, deeper than Dave's), but probably prone to an embarrassing squeak every now and then. Except for the voice and the clothes (because this Miles boy dressed much more neatly and preppy than Dave ever did, always preferring sweatshirts and jeans), the boy reminded him of his younger self, right down to the dark, unruly hair, deep blue, inquisitive eyes, and fast-paced, awkward gait.

Miles folded his arms. "For your information, I turned 16 last week, so you're only 4 years older than me."

Dave snorted. "Well, I'm still legally an adult, and you aren't. Therefore, you're a kid. And you didn't answer my question."

He rolled his eyes. "Annapolis, okay? I'm from Annapolis." Then, a thought occurred to Miles. It was a bit far-fetched considering the man beside him. Not only did he seem to have even less muscles than Miles himself (and that was saying something), but he wanted to trust this college student for some reason. However, quite recently Miles had discovered that his amiable, dorky history teacher, someone who Miles thought he could relate to, was just the mask of a twisted, horrible human being that tried to kill him and his friends. If there was anything he'd learned in the past few weeks, it was that appearances could be deceiving, so despite how he felt he couldn't take chances. So, Miles fixed his gaze on the older man. "Now you have to answer _my _question." He stepped closer, drawing a hand to his right pants pocket. "How is it that the last thing I remember is doing my homework at a library in Maryland, and I wake up on top of a skyscraper in New York?"

Dave guffawed, giving Miles an expression that almost made him laugh. "No! No, no, no, no, I know what you're thinking, but I had nothing to do with this! I really don't know what happened, I was just standing up here, minding my own business, and then this stupid ring started going berserk, and then – "

Miles's thick eyebrows shot up. "Your ring?" His eyes darted to the rather large, striking dragon ring on the college student's bony finger.

Dave winced. "I really shouldn't have said that. Uh, I'm talking nonsense, forget I said anything. Can we please just agree that this isn't my fault?"

Miles didn't hear a word Dave said, instead studying the ring. He could have sworn he'd seen one like it before, even though he could tell this was a very unique object. And perhaps he was crazy, but the ring seemed to be studying him as well, its emerald winking in the light. Miles put a hand to his temple as a familiar ringing headache surged in his skull. "Uh, what did you say your name was?" Miles said, trying to force his attention away from the ring.

"Er, I didn't," the older boy said, relieved that the high-schooler wasn't questioning his sanity or his motives. He stepped towards Miles, holding out his hand. "Dave Stutler."

Miles glanced at the hand, the dragon ring perched comfortably on the pointer finger, then back up at Dave. Again, he liked and wanted to trust Dave. And trust wasn't something that came easily for him. In fact, the only other person he'd felt this kind of friendly attraction to was a girl named Allie. He had only met her a month ago, but somehow she quickly took her place in his life as the best friend he never really had.

He had been startled by this feeling when he'd first met Allie, that day in Mr. Moore's class when she was seated next to him and introduced herself. He tended to keep a solid barrier of snark and intellectual condensation between himself and his peers because, aside from the fact that nerds like him were on the lowest rung of the high school social ladder, he felt no one could ever understand and accept him completely. So, why would the perky, blonde new girl who seemed destined to be one of the popular kids interest him this way? He tried to ignore it, but Miles was drawn to Allie, and couldn't help wanting to help her. It wasn't a crush by any means. Miles considered her the Harry Potter to his Hermione Granger rather than the Ron Weasley (And yes he was comparing himself to a female character, but screw gender roles). Hermione, despite her disapproval of Harry breaking the rules at the beginning of their first year, couldn't help getting drawn into his conversations and conflicts time and again, until they, with Ron, finally bonded over defeating the troll and became friends for life. There was no romance between them, despite what Ron, Rita Skeeter, and crazy shippers may have thought, but they were nonetheless connected. That was just how Miles felt about Allie, and though he had been reluctant to let her in, he was now so glad he had. If connecting to Allie turned out to be so good, maybe following this same instinct and connecting to Dave would turn out the same.

With this in mind, he finally smiled at Dave, and replied, "Miles Ambrosi." They clasped hands. Behind them, the young man still unconscious on the ground shifted slightly as the ring on Dave's finger grew warm and glowed upon touching Miles' skin.

.

"Woah!" Miles gasped.

"Gah!" Dave cried, trying to cover the ring with his other hand. _'Is this thing trying to kill me?' _Both boys quickly drew back. Dave's eyes flickered from the ring, which was losing its unnatural glow, to Miles's shocked expression, his stomach sinking. Times like this he wished Balthazar had taught him how to do Jedi mind tricks rather than plasma bolts. "I – I, uh," Dave stuttered, then forced a smile and lied, "It, uh, runs on batteries! Cool, huh?" _'Please fall for it. Please fall for it. Please fall for it.'_

Miles snorted. "Cool? Yes. Batteries? Doubtful. Come on, even I can lie better than that, and I'm _really_ bad." This, he thought, was partially why he kept people at such a distance – with a secret like his, he couldn't afford slipping up, which he knew was all too easy to do. Case in point, Allie had figured out within mere days of them knowing each other. Lucky for him, he could trust Allie.

Dave cursed in his head. "Okay, this... this _really_ isn't what it looks like – "

"The ring is magic," Miles said. It wasn't a question – he knew.

Dave sagged, smacking a hand to his forehead. This was bad, _very_ bad. Balthazar had told him point blank that civilians couldn't find out about magic. But he couldn't see a way out of this (again, Jedi mind tricks would be useful right now). He sighed. "I... yeah. Yeah, the ring is magic. It brought you here. It just kind of happened, I – I don't know why."

Miles nodded. Not only did the glowing practically scream "Magic!", but he could feel the ring's energy, like pinpricks of heat running over his hand, before he'd seen the glow. "Okay, so, is it just the ring that's magic, or are you a …?" He wasn't sure which term to use, there were so many nearly interchangeable titles used throughout the centuries.

Dave pinched his eyes shut "I'm a..." He stopped, taking another breath. This was actually the first time he'd had to tell someone what he was. Balthazar had already known, and the Morganians had figured it out. Actually saying the words out loud was... hard. It made everything that had happened a lot more real. But, the kid knew this much, he might as well tell all. "Well … I'm a _sorcerer._" He paused, then thought he should add, "Or at least, I was learning to be one."

"That … is awesome."

Dave opened his eyes, surprised by this response, and saw Miles was grinning from ear to ear. "You... you're okay with all this? You're not freaking out that magic is real or something?"

Miles shook his head. "No, I'm good with that part."

"And you won't go telling people?"

"No, of course not."

Dave shook his head. "But... but... _why_? How are you okay with this? _I'm_ not even okay with this, and I'm the one with the magic!" He sighed. "And even if you are okay with this, normal people aren't supposed to know, so I'm screwed either way."

Miles smirked. "Who said I was normal?"

Dave stared at Miles, mouth slightly ajar. "... Huh?"

Miles reached into his right pants pocket and pulled something out, then held his closed fist out to Dave. "I may not have a fancy ring, but this has been just as useful." He opened his hand, revealing a pen with a blue crystal on the end.

Dave raised an eyebrow. "That... is a _pen_."

Miles grinned. "That's what you think." He closed his eyes, held the pen out besides him, then opened his hand. A flurry of gold sparks sizzled around the pen, and before Dave could blink, it turned into a tall staff.

.

The young man on the ground stirred.

.

Dave gaped at the staff, and then at Miles. "You have – but that means – " Dave's open mouth turned upwards into a smile, and he pointed ecstatically at Miles. "You're a sorcerer! Like me!"

Miles shrugged. "Well, I call myself a wizard, but magic is magic, right?"

Dave gave two thumbs up. "Definitely! And you aren't insane! That's a plus." Dave frowned and his eyes narrowed towards Miles. "At least, you don't seem insane. You aren't trying to kill me, are you?"

"No."

"Good. Had to make sure." He held up his hands defensively. "Nothing personal, man. It's just that _every_ sorcerer I've met has tried to kill me in some way." '_Even the one who says he's 'helping' me,' _he thought._ 'Though how throwing white hot balls of magical energy is "helpful" is beyond me.'_

Miles sighed. "I know the feeling. The only other sorcerer I've met was my _history teacher._ One day he was all smiles and 'history is awesome!' Then that night he blasted me into a wall." The honors student crossed his arms and grumbled, "And I thought I was his favorite student."

Dave winced. "Ouch. That sucks. Is he still your teacher?"

Miles smiled. "No. After we stopped his evil plan, he was, quote-on-quote 'given a leave of absence' for claiming a student attacked him with a sword." He shrugged. "The ironic thing is, that was the one thing he _wasn't_ crazy about."

Dave looked surprised. "You attacked him with a _sword?"_

Miles rolled his eyes. "Do I look like the sword-and-shield type? No, that was my friend, Allie. She totally owned Mr. Moore. I just helped even the playing field with this baby," he said as he stroked the staff.

Suddenly, a groan bubbled from behind them. The sorcerers turned to see the third man, still unconscious, stirring slightly. Dave scowled. "Aw crud. I forgot about him." Today just wasn't his day. Dave walked over and bent down to shake his shoulder. "Hey, man, you up? You okay?" The man laid still. Dave shook his head. "Nothing. Geez, what are we gonna do with him? He's been out a while, I feel like we should lay him down somewhere, get him indoors." After a moment of silence, Dave turned his head back towards the other boy. "Miles?"

A shudder went up the high-schooler's spine as he stared at the prone figure on the ground. He felt disturbed, shocked to his core. All his senses were screaming that this was wrong, that this man should not be here, that he couldn't exist. Miles shook his head. Why did he feel this way? It wasn't as if he knew the man. Yet there was something familiar about him – the high cheekbones, the large ears similar to Miles' own, except they stuck out significantly from the cropped dark hair, the red neckerchief...

.

Suddenly, the world seemed to shift around him. He saw himself kneeling by a lake, seeing his face's reflection in the smooth surface of the water... until the water rippled, swirling and distorting the image. When it resettled, the reflection showed not Miles's face, but the stranger's, the eyes open to reveal a bright, piercing blue, a few shades lighter than Miles's own. The reflection smirked, before his eyes glowed molten gold...

.

"Dude!"

Miles shook his head as the real world came back into focus, only to find Dave staring at him.

"What happened?" Dave asked.

"Um... sorry," Miles muttered, blushing, "That happens a lot. I, uh, think deeply." He knew it wasn't the best excuse, but it was the best he could come up with, his mind reeling over what he'd just seen. That vision, if it was that, wasn't normal... even for him. However, he decided to worry about it later. "What were you saying before?"

Dave frowned – Miles wasn't kidding about the lying thing. But Dave felt no need to push the issue, so he simply repeated, "I want to move this guy somewhere, lay him up on a bed or a couch. But I really don't want to call an ambulance, 'cause there'll be too many questions. And we certainly can't carry him, 'cause that would look, well, kind of weird."

Miles nodded, "Yeah, that's an understatement." Miles looked back to the strange figure. "Y'know... it sounds strange, but I feel like I know him, or at least I recognize his face from somewhere."

Dave frowned. "Huh." Dave kneeled down to get a closer look at the guy. "Actually, I feel like I've seen him before too. He looks a little like..." Dave shook his head. The high cheekbones and long, straight nose reminded him a bit of an illustration in Balthazar's books, but he couldn't think of who it was supposed to be. Dave shrugged and stood up again. "Well, we can't think about it now. We've got to move this guy."

Miles quirked an eyebrow. "_We?_ I'm still one of the victims here."

Dave's eyebrows leapt up in horror. "Dude! C'mon, I told you this was an accident!"

The high-schooler smirked. "I was kidding. Look, can you apparate?"

"Can I _what_?"

Miles gave the college student a bemused smile. "Apparition? Y'know, what they call teleporting in _Harry Potter?_"

Dave crossed his arms and shrugged. "Oh. Guess I never read that far."

"You must've at least seen the films, though." When Dave responded with a shake of his head, Miles couldn't help but exclaim in surprise, "Seriously?" Because maybe _Harry Potter_ wasn't the same kind of magic he or Dave did (look, Ma, no wands), but it was still about growing up with magic, feeling different from everyone else. If anyone could relate to that series, he figured someone like Dave, who was so much like himself, would be just the guy.

Dave crossed his arms, curtly explaining, "Look, I tried the first two, a long time ago before the first film came out. Kind of lost interest soon after, never really got into it. It's really not a big deal."

Miles was going to give a quip about how he was missing out on the most amazing series ever, but he noticed a haunted look cross Dave's face and stopped. Though he was confused by this reaction, he decided now was not the time to ask, and instead rephrased his former question as to whether the older spellcaster could use magic to take them somewhere else.

Dave shook his head. "I've seen it done, but I don't know how to do it myself. What about you?"

Miles bit his lip. "I don't think so, but I've never actually tried. My magic tends to act on instinct. Sometimes the magic words will come to me, sometimes my magic will react without words, and sometimes nothing happens at all. " _'Not to mention I've only known I could cast spells for a few weeks,' _he thought, though he didn't want to embarrass himself by revealing that.

"I know the feeling," Dave grumbled. "So basically, we're a couple of amateur sorcerers stuck at the top of the Chrysler Building and neither of us is competent enough to do anything."

"Pretty much," Miles said, showing his mastery of the art of deadpan. He continued, more thoughtfully, "Maybe if we combined our powers?"

Dave snorted. "What are we, the Wonder Twins?"

Miles' eyes glinted at the taller boy underneath his thick brows. "Do you have any better ideas?"

Dave shrugged, surprised at how intimidating the kid could be. "Fine." Then he realized, snapping his fingers, "Why don't we aim for my apartment? My roommate won't be back for a few hours since he has a date tonight."

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed, nodding. "Now, how do we do this?"

.

After a few minutes of brainstorming off each other, they decided to each crouch down on one side of the stranger, before Miles would touch his staff to Dave's ring, concentrating the magic through that to teleport them to Dave's apartment. The boys got into position, then Dave said, "Okay. I think we're good. Now, I'll focus on my apartment, you try to come up with an incantation."

"Right," Miles said, "If I can't, I'll just feed my powers into you through the staff. On three, we bring them together. One..."

Dave closed his eyes, focusing on his mental reconstruction of his apartment room.

"Two..."

Both pleaded they wouldn't get blown up.

"Three!"

Dave stretched his hand towards Miles, who clutched the ancient wooden staff tightly as he tilted it towards Dave's ring. Just like when the ring touched Miles's hand earlier, the ring's jewel glowed bright green, while the large gem on the staff radiated an electric blue aura, sending shocks of energy down the arms of their wielders. But before the two sorcerers could focus this energy towards their goal, they felt the man below them shudder violently. A millisecond later, Miles trembled as well. An incantation rose to his mind, but before he could utter it, another voice, low and reverent as if in prayer, spoke them aloud:

"_Ásetaþ."_

Miles and Dave's eyes shot open, staring in surprise at each other before looking down at the stranger. His eyes were still closed, but there was no doubt he had chanted the spell, his brow creased in effort. Before either could marvel at this, or wonder if he was conscious, cold, spidery fingers grasped both their outstretched arms. "_Ásetaþ!" _the stranger chanted again, with more volume, his hands suddenly very warm on Miles and Dave's skin, his glassy eyes half open to reveal glowing gold irises.

"Woah!" Dave cried as the already bright auras of the staff and ring increased to a blinding light. He wanted to pull back, but his body felt frozen, fiery magic more intense than any amount he'd practiced with pumping through his veins and spilling out through the ring. He blinked his eyes rapidly, uncomfortable both from light of the ring and from the strange prickling sensation starting behind his eyes. His thoughts and emotions were torn between horror and absolute elation. He didn't _want _to like this sensation... but he _did._

Miles felt similarly, except that the force of magic now rushing through him felt more raw, more ancient, more vast. He'd tapped into his magic before, of course, but right now it felt like it was embracing him after a long absence, filling him whole. He gasped as his eyes burned.

The air shifted, and Miles and Dave, having experience the lightheaded, gut-wrenching sensation before, braced themselves as the world around them disappeared...

* * *

><p><em>Sooo? What'd you think? Who is this powerful stranger? Why do Miles and Dave find him familiar? What's with that coincidence of Dave's ring summoning two people who also have magic? And did the spell work, or will they end up somewhere entirely different? We shall see! Until then, some ending notes:<em>

_1. I will be changing aspects of Dave and Miles' backstories to fit with the Merlin universe and with how I see the characters. For example, though the actors who played Dave and Miles in their respective films have brown eyes, their characters are noted to have dark blue eyes in this chapter. Additionally, I changed the appearance of Miles' staff from the film (see comment 5). These are artistic decisions, so if you see similar continuity discrepancies these are conscious changes._

_2. Ásetaþ (pronounced ah-say-tahth, according to some sites) = to transport_

_3. Did anyone notice the Percy Jackson film shout out? ;)_

_4. The original Avalon High novel takes place in Annapolis, Maryland. I don't know if that's the case for the film, but they never offered another name so I stuck with the novel's setting._

_5. Miles's last name is completely original for the story, since he is the only character who didn't exist in the original book and thus was never given a last name. Connected to this, I changed the description of Miles' staff from the original film because it was just too perfect to pass up making a certain connection. See if you can guess what's going on._

_6. Yes, I will be mercilessly referencing Harry Potter a lot in this story. After all, I feel works like Sorcerer's Apprentice and Merlin may not have come to be if Harry Potter didn't exist, and I can see Miles being a huge Potterhead. Apologies if I spoil anything, but I'll try to avoid it._

_And that is that, until next time. Please comment or PM! A review is always appreciated :)_

_~*Astraea*_


	4. Part 3: Call Waiting

_Ah, hello everyone!_

_Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays! Happy Merlin Series Finale!_

_...Okay, that last one's not so happy._

_So, I managed to meet my self-set deadline to have something out in honor of the series finale (even if I will not have watched it or most of season 5 upon publication), but as a result this is a lot shorter than what I intended. I just got back from college four days ago, and there's been much to do since, so please forgive me._

_I'd also like to make a note on the continuity: events and characters appearing after "The Coming of Arthur" will probably be referenced by the future characters, but Season 5 and Mordred's characterization in it might be getting put aside due to prior plans for the character. I just can't see fitting that version in, especially since I haven't been following the episodes for season 5 that closely. So, let's just say it's AU following Season 3 - some elements of the canon may be used, but some of it will be manipulated to fit with what I already had planned and with the canons of Sorcerer's Apprentice and Avalon High._

_So, without further ado, here's the (abbreviated) Part 3!_

* * *

><p>Part 3: Call Waiting<p>

Alexandra Pennington checked her phone for what felt like the millionth time.

"Anything?" her boyfriend, Will, asked, putting his arm around her.

She shook her head. "No," she sighed, putting the phone back in her jacket pocket.

Marco, Will's stepbrother, leaned back in the chair across from them, chomping into an apple and chewing it obnoxiously. "Well," he said, mouth full, "Y'know what they say: 'A wizard is never late, nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to.'"

Allie cocked an eyebrow. "I never took you for a _Lord of the Rings_ fan, Marco."

The dark-haired boy smirked. "What can I say? I'm full of surprises."

"Well," Will said, "I think we've all had enough surprises for awhile."

Allie nodded, then frowned in thought. She stood up, nervous energy in her body begging her to move, do something. She began pacing in front of the fireplace. "I don't like this. It isn't like Miles to be late for _anything,_ let alone a study session."

"What do you want to do, send out a search party?" Marco drawled.

Allie stopped. "Y'know, that's not a bad idea." She drew herself up. "I'll check his house. Will, you, can check the library, and Marco – "

"I was joking."

The petite girl's stature wilted. "Oh... I knew that."

"Still," said Will, getting up to stand by Allie. "It wouldn't be a bad idea to check around since Miles isn't responding. With Mr. Moore still in town – "

"Will, trust me," his brother replied, "Mr. Moore is covered."

"Are you sure? I mean, the guy has powerful magic, even without that staff. Plus, what if he has accomplices? Allies?"

Suddenly, Marco's face hardened, his eyes narrowed as he stood up. "Do you doubt the Order's ability to keep it under control?"

Will raked a hand through his light brown hair. He knew how sensitive Marco got with anything related to his dad, the secret Order of the Bear society being a key component. "That's not what I'm saying, Marco. But we still have to be careful. We can't risk anyone getting hurt again."

Marco stepped towards him. "And you're saying the Order would let that happen?"

"Guys! Enough!" Allie exclaimed as she stepped between the stepbrothers, fixing each with a hard glare that stopped them in their tracks. "This is getting us nowhere. Sit down, both of you."

The brothers shared a glance, exchanging apologies. The small, blonde girl was usually so kind and perky that the quarterback and the former bad boy forgot how much authority she could project when called upon. They sank back into the couch.

Allie smiled. "Thank you. Now look, why don't I call him again. Maybe he'll pick up this time and we've been worrying for nothing." The boys agreed, so Allie pulled her phone out again and clicked on "Miles" in her contacts. As the dial tone sounded, she couldn't help but reflect on how not too long ago she never would have believed the four of them could be friends. Her whole life, Allie had been the perpetual new girl, until her parents decided this year to park themselves in Maryland for a while. She'd met Will , the school golden boy; his stepbrother, a rebellious bully who made it his mission to make Will's life harder; and Miles, the snarky school dweeb and Marco's punching bag (though no actual punching was involved). At least, those were her first impressions.

Then, everything changed after Mr. Moore's attack. Marco had dropped the bully act he'd been putting on to get Mr. Moore's trust, and turned out to be a pretty cool guy. He was still somewhat confrontational and still pulled pranks like he used to, but it wasn't nearly as mean-spirited as before. Will was not only on better terms with Marco because of this (though they still butted heads, as brothers do), but he seemed a lot more at ease with himself. Before, he was under so much pressure as a quarterback, as a student, and as a boyfriend falling out of love with one of his best friends. But the Knights made it to the championships that night, later winning it for the first time in years, and Will had settled things with Jen enough to start dating Allie. And as for Allie herself, she found a place and a group of people where she finally fit in.

But then, there was Miles. Miles, Allie thought, was complicated. While she already considered him her best friend, she worried that he was keeping something from her. Sometimes he seemed easy to read, and other times he felt so cold, so distant to her. He _seemed_ to be enjoying the perks of having magic when he practiced around her. But she would watch himpaging through a book on Arthurian legend from her parents' extensive collection, or as he was practicing certain spells, that his mouth turned down, his eyebrows furrowed, and he stared out, suddenly looking a good deal older than sixteen.

Sometimes she just waited patiently for him to deal with whatever crossed his mind. But sometimes she had to snap him out of it, more for her sake than his – it creeped her out to see him like that.

Allie sighed. She wanted Miles to really trust her and tell her what was wrong. _So_ badly. Considering his talents_,_ it wasn't surprising to her that he held his cards close to his chest, but sometimes, irrationally, she just wanted to shake him for being such an idiot. Weren't they friends now? Sure, it had only been four weeks since they'd met, but it felt like she'd known him for _years_, and she knew he felt the same. All four of them had clicked together well after all was said and done, but the relationship between her and Miles was something else all together, something she couldn't put into words. There was absolutely no physical attraction, but they were, nonetheless... _bonded, _somehow. So it hurt that he was still reluctant to open up when she was open with him. But she wasn't so much angry at him, as she was angry at herself, as if she'd done something to let him down, and that's why he couldn't tell her. It made absolutely no sense, because she hadn't done anything like that. But no matter how much she rationalized, all she kept thinking was, _'Whatever this is, I can't let him deal with it alone.'_

Suddenly, a voice registered in Allie's ear. "Allie?" said a low, groggy voice over the phone.

She grinned, "Miles! Ugh, finally! Where are you?" She looked at Will and Marco. "Guys, I've got him!"

Will sighed, "Thank goodness."

"Tell him to get his butt over here," Marco said.

She heard Miles say, "Why? What's wrong?"

Allie frowned. "Don't you remember? You, me, Will, and Marco? Chemistry study session at my house? Any of this ringing a bell?"

"...Oh! Oh man, yeah. Geez, um... I... I don't think I'll be able to come over."

"Why?"

"Uh.. well... I just kind of got caught up in something"

Allie huffed. There he was, avoiding the truth again. "_Mi_-les," she said, emphasizing the first syllable, "what's going on?"

"Nothing!"

"It doesn't sound like nothing."

Will stood. "What's he saying?"

Allie turned to him. "He says he can't come and he won't tell me why." She continued, to Miles, "I'm your friend, Miles. We're worried about you. We thought maybe Mr. Moore had..." She closed her mouth. She couldn't even say what she'd been thinking could have happened.

"Allie, no. It's nothing like that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry anyone. It's just... I don't think you'll believe me if I tell you."

Allie raised an eyebrow. "Miles, I've seen you conjure a staff from a pen and float things in midair, and I beat our history teacher in a sword fight. After that, I'll think I'll believe anything."

She heard Miles suck in a breath. He paused. "What if I told you that two minutes ago I woke up on top of a skyscraper in New York City?"

"...Excuse me?"

* * *

><p><em>Okay, so no Merlin in this chapter. Again. I wanted him to be, but I ran out of time. But I included Miles' friends for a reason, one which is more closely related to Merlin than you think, so stay tuned and see if you can figure it out ;)<em>

_I'd like to thank Merlyn Pyndragon for beta reading, muzicdreamz for her wonderful support, and the following reviewers: Laughy-Taffy, Tolleren, AuroraKnight, awsomeperson, TheHoAProtagonist, and ruby890. I love and appreciate you, as well as everyone who favorited, put me on story alert, and just plain read past the first chapter!_

_Please review - I maybe encouraged to write up the next part sooner!_

_Long live the King! Long live the Queen! Long live Merlin!_

_~*Astraea*_


	5. Part 4: The Warlock

_Hey guys! Can you believe it's been over a year since I've started this story?_

_I meant to get this out earlier, but I was fiddling around with it a lot, and taking some college intersession classes. Actually got to take one where I got to look at some 19th Century and early 20th Century texts on Arthurian Legend, including the second edition of The Sword in the Stone, and an edition of Le Morte D'Arthur with some beautiful illustrations, so that was cool. There's even a work titled Arthour and Merlin: a metrical romance. Romance of course refers to the literary period and not actual passionate romance, but I thought the Merthur shippers out there would enjoy that :)_

_Anyway, this chapter's nice and long to make up for last time. Unfortunately, full-time classes start Monday for me. I've been doing a little of Part 5 as I've been editing this part, and I'd really like to get it out sooner than later, but I may not even get a chance to work on it until March or even May. I really hate doing this to the people actually following, but my classwork does come first. I do intend to continue this to the end, though. I have some really good stuff (or, I think it's good) coming up, so I hope you all keep following!_

_Additionally, let me reiterate what I said last chapter: I have not seen the Merlin series finale yet (I'm such a coward, I'm not ready for the heartbreak!), and I'm not sure even when I do that I'll be including any parts of it. This is AU, so I may take elements of Merlin canon after Season 3, but not so much that it will conflict with what I already had in mind, and the finale will probably conflict quite a lot. So I ask that you *please* don't put any spoilers in your comments (if you have them)! This hasn't been an issue yet, and I plan to keep it that way._

_With that out of the way, on with the story!_

* * *

><p>Part 4: The Warlock<p>

As the younger boy took his call, Dave dropped into a chair at the kitchen table, his body shaking as he took a few slow, deep breaths. "That... was a doozy," he muttered before he downing a glass of water. The teleportation had nearly knocked him and Miles out. He was surprised they were both still standing. Still, they'd made it, and that was enough for him.

Except...

He glanced down at the other man, still laying unconscious on the ground. Still knocked out even after all that, and they had no idea who he was or where he came from._ 'Whoever he is, he's powerful,'_ Dave thought, suppressing a shudder. He'd thought Balthazar and Horvath were scary enough, but the raw power that man projected back there was... _wow._That was honestly the only way he could describe it._'I've heard of doing something in your sleep before, but not that literally.'_

But the man's identity and power wasn't what really worried Dave. He just wanted to know why the ring had brought the two strangers to him. Because if he knew why, maybe he could find a way to get the ring to send them back (preferably before their families noticed they were gone). Dave knew he couldn't do it on his own, even with two other sorcerers. After all, the teleport to the apartment had been a fluke, really. The neckerchief guy was the one who knew the spell, and it seemed as though he'd been in a trance, probably wouldn't even remember it when (or if?) he woke up. And as for himself and Miles, they were just a couple of newbies.

_'I could ask Balthazar... no.' _Dave shook his head. _'No, I can't.' _How could he go back to Balthazar now? He'd stormed out, discarded his "old man's shoes" (required for good magic casting due to the thick rubber soles), and left his pocket Encantus back at his lab in the underground railway turnaround, refusing to do magic again. Going back and facing him would be horribly awkward. Not only would he have to explain his mistake and beg help from the old sorcerer after leaving him so abruptly, but he'd have to hear the inevitable question of whether he wanted to do magic again. Dave just didn't want to face it. But, then again, how else was he going to fix all this?

.

"Huh...? What...?"

Dave's head snapped to the man on the floor, almost dropping the glass in his hand. It seemed his bulldog, Tank, had decided to greet "Sleeping Cheekbones" with a wet, slobbery wake-up call. "Oh man," he mumbled to himself, springing to his feet and tramping over to his drooling companion. "Tank! No! We do not treat our guests like that, buddy. The morning kisses are only for me." He paused. "That... didn't sound right." He shrugged, then picked up the dog and placed him in his doggy bed. He hurried back and bent next to the neckerchief guy. "Hey! Sorry about that. Uh, you're not allergic to dogs, right?"

In response, the stranger's eyes blinked open, bright blue this time instead of gold. He immediately squinted, bringing a hand up over his eyes. "Awfully bright in here," he mumbled... in an unmistakably British accent.

_'Why are the crazy powerful sorcerers almost always British?' _Dave wondered. Horvath. Drake Stone. Heck, even Balthazar was technically British. He'd lost the accent, but he'd been born and bred there a thousand years ago. He held out a hand for the guy and pulled him up to sitting position. "Hey, it's all right, buddy. You're just a bit bent out of shape, been out of it for a while. Welcome back to the land of the living." Dave put a hand to the stranger's forehead. "How're you feeling? Are-are you hurt anywhere?"

The neckerchief guy brought a hand to his head. "I think I'm okay...Head hurts a bit."

"I-I could get you some aspirin," Dave stuttered.

The stranger gave him a confused look. "What's aspirin?"

Dave blinked. '_Do they not call it aspirin in Britain? I mean, they call cookies "biscuits," so I guess that's possible.'_"Y'know, painkillers," he explained. "Medicine. For the headache."

The other guy seemed to understand. "Oh. Um, no, I'm good, thanks." He glanced around, still squinting. "What am I doing here?"

Dave's brain froze, grasping for a decent response. "Uh... well, what's the last thing you remember?" That would buy him some time.

"I was... in the castle," he murmured. "Cleaning armor. Then there was this light, and the room started spinning. Speaking of light, how is it so bright in here?"

Dave paused. '_Castle? Armor?' _Then, he replied, "I don't know what you mean. It's no brighter in here than anywhere else with a lightbulb. In fact, it's a bit dimmer." He glared up at the cheap, bare lightbulb screwed into the ceiling, no shade (New York City apartment prices plus college student salary didn't leave a lot of room for luxury). He glanced at the Brit again, getting up off the floor. "Were you, maybe, drinking?"

The Brit tore his confused eyes off the orb and got up. "No!" He huffed. "Why does everyone always think I'm drinking? Gaius told Arthur that excuse one time and now that's all he and anyone believes." He rolled his eyes. "Dollophead."

Dave snorted. "'Dollophead.' That's a new one."

The guy frowned up at the lightbulb again, circling it. "How does it do that?"

"Do what?"

"Glow like that."

The physics whiz raised an eyebrow. "Dude, it's a lightbulb. That's literally kids' stuff, elementary school level."

The other boy scowled. "Well sorry if I've never heard of it until now."

Dave started. "You've never...?" '_What?' _Something wasn't right here. He peered closer at the gawky man, specifically the way he was dressed. It wasn't that it was that bizarre – basic shirt, trousers, boots. Heck, neckwear like his was in style among certain crowds. But the material, the wear and tear upon closer glance, seemed like something out of a renaissance fair or medieval period film. _'He mentioned a castle,' _Dave remembered, a sinking feeling in his stomach. _'And polishing armor.'_

"Hey, where's your bathroom?"

Dave started, and turned to see Miles addressing him, his hand held over the mouthpiece of his phone. He pointed, his nervousness slipping into his words as he said, "F-First door on your left." Miles didn't seem to notice as he found the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Dave heard the conversation with whoever-it-was resume behind the door, though Dave couldn't make out what he was saying.

He turned back to the stranger, who asked, "What's a bathroom?"

Dave gulped. "I..."

"And why is that boy talking to himself?"

Dave fumbled for words to explain. "He-he's not talking to himself. He's talking to someone his cell." The stranger didn't seem to understand. "Cell phone? Cellular telephone?" He tried gesturing with his hands to clarify what he was talking about, but it just came across like a bunch of manic waving. Finally he gave up, folding his hands and begging, "Please tell me you know what a telephone is?"

The stranger shook his head. "Can't say I do."

Dave exhaled a shaky breath, raking a hand through his hair. _'Why do these things have to happen to me?'_

_*-.-*-.-*-.-*-.-*-.-*_

"Y'know, Miles, if anyone else had told me that whole story, I would have thought it was a prank. Particularly if it was Marco."

"Hey!" Miles heard the person in question exclaim (the other line having switched to speakerphone).

"But you believe me? About the Chrystler building and the spell and everything?" Miles asked.

"Well, yeah," Allie said. "I mean, we've gone through too much weirdness to think you're crazy, and you're not a great liar, no matter how strange the story."

Miles took offense to that last one. "Gee, thanks," the honors student drawled. "Because I wasn't able to hide that I sometimes see the future for how many years."

"You also weren't friends with anyone for 'how many years,'" Allie quipped. "And I figured it out within a week of knowing you."

"And I knew before she did," Marco added.

Miles rolled his eyes. "You've mentioned."

Allie's smirk was audible as she said, "Check and mate."

The wizard huffed. "Well, if you weren't so accident prone, I wouldn't have had so many visions around you. And then the pounding in my skull kind of hampered my lying skills."

She chuckled. "You keep telling yourself that. Look, I don't care if you have bad lying skills. I trust you with my life either way. We all do. Even if you were better at it, you wouldn't lie to us, not about something like this. Not without a really good reason."

He smiled. "Thanks," he said softly into the receiver.

"So, what are we going to do about this?" Will said. "How are you going to get home?"

"I wish I knew," Miles admitted. "But Dave's ring got me into this, I'm hoping together we can somehow figure out how to get it to send me and the other guy back. All three of us have magic, there must be something we can do."

"But how do you know you can trust either of them?" Will asked.

"Yeah, what if it's Mr. Moore all over again?" Allie added. "He seemed nice, too. Even I was fooled, and I consider myself a pretty good judge of character."

"Allie, you thought I was evil," Marco said.

There was a moment of silence on the other side of the conversation.

"Well, as I said, a pretty good judge of character. No one's perfect."

"Just saying."

Miles chuckled, then said, "Look, I've considered that possibility. But I'm stranded in the middle of New York, I don't know anyone else with magic, and I can't exactly call my mom to explain how I ended up here. Plus, my instincts are telling me that I can trust both of them. The way I know I can trust you guys."

"Miles, _you _thought I was evil, too."

He frowned. "You were slamming me into lockers and torturing me everyday, what else was I supposed to think?"

"Your act was good, Marco," his stepbrother admitted. "Almost too good."

The former bad boy said, "What can I say? I have a gift for swagger."

"Swagger? Really?" Allie chimed in, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Miles, not wanting the conversation to devolve into nonsense, called loudly into the phone, "_Look._ The point is, this didn't happen by chance. I think I'm connected to them somehow, and the ring summoned me because of that."

"What about all of you having magic? Could that be it?" Will added.

Miles chuckled. "Well yeah, there's that, but there's definitely something else. What? I don't know. But if everything that's happened to us has taught me anything, it's that real coincidences are far and few between." He looked over his shoulder at the neckerchief boy, who was standing up, staring at the ceiling. "I will admit, though, there's something about the other guy that's making me uneasy."

"What?"

Miles paused, clenching his teeth.

"C'mon, Miles, you have to tell us now," Marco said. "Don't leave us hanging."

Glancing over his shoulder at the stranger once more, Miles lowered his voice as he explained, "When I first saw him, I had this overwhelming feeling that he shouldn't be here. He shouldn't exist. I just haven't been able to shake the feeling no matter how much I rationalize against it. And then I think... I think I saw something. But it was weird. It didn't feel like one of my normal visions. You know, if anyone can call my visions 'normal.'"

Will asked, "Did it hurt?"

"For once, no. That was the only good thing about it. But the thing is, it wasn't a vision of the future, or even of the past. It was just really vague and abstract." Miles squinted his eyes shut, trying to retrieve the image in his mind. "I was looking into the water at the edge of a lake."

"Could it have been _the _lake?" Allie wondered in a low voice.

"Maybe. I'm not sure. Anyway, I saw my reflection. But then the water rippled, and I saw the face of that other guy in the water instead of mine. The reflection winked at me, and his eyes flashed this eerie gold color, the way they did with the teleportation spell. But I had the vision before that happened." He ran a hand through his hair. "It was just weird. And a bit creepy."

"Wait," Allie said. "Why was the eye-glowing weird to you, Miles? I thought that was normal. Well, for wizards. Sorcerers. Whichever term is more appropriate."

"Allie, what are you talking about?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end. Then Marco said, incredulous, "Do you really not know?"

"Know what? I may be psychic, but I'm not a mind reader."

He heard some murmuring on the other end. After a moment, it was Allie who spoke, "Miles... look, don't freak out, but you should know I - I've kind of seen your eyes doing the same thing."

Miles paused, his grip tightening around the phone in his hand. He forced a laugh. "Okay, Allie, this really isn't the time for jokes. My eyes don't glow."

"This isn't a joke, Miles."

Miles felt cold. "Well then, you clearly must have been seeing things, y'know, a trick of the light."

He heard her sigh. "The first few times I saw it, when you were practicing, I thought it _was_ a trick of the light. But I've seen it so many times since – "

"You must have seen wrong, then," he bit back. He debated in his head for a moment, then made a split-second decision. "Hold on a second." He covered the mouthpiece with his hand and turned to Dave. "Hey, where's your bathroom?"

Dave started as Miles addressed him, then pointed to the side. "F-First door on your left."

Miles nodded and headed in the direction noted (as he closed the bathroom door he thought he heard the stranger say, "What's a bathroom?"). Once inside he held the phone to his ear again. "Sorry about that, just had to find a bathroom."

"Why?" Will asked.

He ignored the question, asking, "Which spell was I doing when you hallucinated about my eyes?"

He heard Allie interject, "Miles, you're stranded in New York City. Should you really be doing this now?"

"Well, blame yourselves for that," Miles responded, staring at his reflection in the speckled bathroom mirror as he unveiled his staff. "What you said is going to keep bugging me until I see it for myself, if it was even real. I have to do this. Now, what was the spell?"

After a moment, Allie answered, "I... I think one of them was levitation?"

Miles exhaled. "Okay." He placed the phone down on the counter and focused on the sound of his breathing, trying to recall the verbal incantation from his memory. When it came to him, he didn't spare a moment as he concentrated and pointed the staff to the bottle of toothpaste oozing onto the sink counter, his eyes fixed on the identical pair staring at him from the glass. "_Flíeh!_"

It only happened for a split second, easy to miss if he wasn't looking squarely at them. But for that split second the blue eyes he'd known for his whole life changed into something foreign, yet also eerily familiar.

The glowing gold eyes of the stranger.

He clenched his eyes shut as he jumped away from his reflection. The high-school student felt his chest heave up and down for a few moments, then he tentatively opened his eyes to see that the eyes in the mirror were blue again. The toothpaste bottle was still hovering off the counter, however, so with a flick of his hand, he terminated the spell. He picked up the phone and, hoping he didn't sound as shaken as he felt, simply said, "So, my eyes glow."

"Yeah..." Will said. "I really can't believe you didn't know. I mean, they're _your_ eyes."

Miles rolled said eyes. "Oh yes," He snapped, "I must have known because I love admiring myself in the mirror when I'm practicing magic."

"C'mon, cut the snark," Allie said gently. "Are you okay?"

He sighed. "Yeah, I guess," he said. "It's just, all my life I've only had to deal with the visions, and those only became more frequent recently. There's this whole other side of me that I don't really know, and I can do these things that I thought were impossible. I mean, it's been cool, but a lot to deal with in a short amount of time. Y'know?"

He heard Allie say, "Yeah. I know."

.

"WOAH!"

Miles whipped around and flung the bathroom door open just in time to see Dave Stutler flung across the room, hitting the opposite wall with a bang. He glanced over to the stranger to see his eyes wide and glowing gold again, mouth agape in shock. All Miles could say about the scene was, "Well, that escalated quickly."

"Miles, what was that?" Allie's voice exclaimed in his ear.

"Um... I'm going to have to call you back," Miles replied at a clipped speed as he re-enchanted the staff into a pen. "Cover for me with my mom? Please and thank you."

"Miles – ?!"

He jabbed the disconnect button then ran over to Dave. He found the other guy had gotten there first.

"Are you okay? Are you feeling dizzy?" the stranger asked, checking the back of the man's head, feeling for a pulse. He held up three fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Three," Dave murmured.

"What happened? Why'd you do that?" Miles asked the neckerchief guy.

"I- I didn't mean to!" he stuttered, looking horrified. "My magic's never gone out of control like that. Not when I wasn't angry, at least."

"Remind me never to make you angry," Dave muttered.

"What'd you say to him?" Miles asked Dave.

"I was just telling him how we got him here," the college student explained. "I mentioned seeing him do magic, and he started freaking out." He scowled. "And what is with me getting slammed into walls by British people lately?"

"Tell me about it," Miles muttered, thinking of how Mr. Moore's accent switched from standard American to British the moment he revealed his true intentions. Talk about hammy.

The two boys helped the third stand and led him over to sit on the couch. The neckerchief guy glanced at Miles. "He doesn't seem to have a concussion or anything broken."

"Are you sure?" Miles asked as he went to fetch an ice pack from the fridge.

He shrugged. "Well, I'm the ward of the court physician in my kingdom, so I've been around a lot of sick and wounded people. Not that good with making medicines, I'll admit, but I can at least recognize basic injuries and illnesses."

Miles paused in thought before approaching Dave and applying the ice pack to his head. He whispered to the patient, "Did he just say 'kingdom?'"

Dave grimaced. "Yeah. I'm getting the sneaking suspicion that this guy's not from around here. Y'know, in a temporal sense. Doesn't even know what a lightbulb is, or a phone, or a _bathroom_."

Miles winced. "Oh boy. How do we break it to him?"

"Better question is, how am I supposed to get him back before the space-time continuum ruptures?"

"Well, why don't we find out what time we have to get him back to first."

"I'm right here you know," the Brit called to them. "Pretty sure you're whispering about me."

Miles and Dave glanced at each other, then at the stranger. "Okay, yes, probably shouldn't have done that," Dave said. "Let's all sit down, shall we? Talk all this out? Yes?"

The other two agreed. As Miles went towards the kitchen table to grab some chairs, he suddenly found them zooming past him along the ground. He turned and saw the tall stranger's eyes glowing again as the chairs settled in the place where Miles had meant to bring them. The stranger flinched as he noticed Dave and Miles staring at him. "Erm, sorry. Didn't mean to startle you. My magic... seems to be a little strange today." He shook his head as he sat in the chair. "It hasn't reacted to my subconscious thoughts like that for a few years now. Not since I started learning spells"

"It comes that easily to you? Without a spell?" Dave asked.

The neckerchief guy glanced at the floor, the tips of his large ears turning red in embarrassment. "I've been able to use magic as far back as I can remember. It's always come naturally. Sometimes too naturally."

Dave crossed his arms. _'Who _is _this guy?' _His attempt at controlling other objects like had ended in complete disaster, everything quickly escalating out of control (and that was _with _the ring, and plenty of concentration). This guy could probably do it without even thinking about it! Still, he recognized the other sorcerer's discomfort with others knowing about his magic and couldn't help but sympathize. "Look, I didn't mean to freak you out. But it's not like we're going to tell anyone about you. I mean, we've both got our own secrets to hide."

"Oh, so you did tell him we had magic," Miles said. "I wasn't sure."

The prodigy's eyes narrowed. "Just because you have magic as well doesn't mean you'll keep my secret. You could use that knowledge against me. I already have someone holding a secret over my head, and she has no idea about me having magic. If she did, I can tell you now I wouldn't get to keep my head for long." He smirked. "And I'd rather like to keep it, as I've grown somewhat attached to it."

The other two chuckled at the quip, but felt bad, wondering what kind of situation the other sorcerer was in that he was being blackmailed. Miles in particular shuddered at the idea of beheading.

"I guess that's why you reacted the way you did," Miles said.

The neckerchief guy sighed. "When you said you knew what I was, I just seized up. My magic did the rest, I suppose." He glanced down at his hands, bemused.

"Well, do you trust us now?" Dave asked. "Because I'd rather not fear for my safety if I don't have to."

The other said with a goodnatured smile, "Well, considering that I have no idea where I am, except that it's somewhere called..." He trailed off, eyebrows furrowed in thought. "... actually, I think I've even forgotten the name."

"New York."

"Ah, right. New York." He cocked his head. "Why is it 'new'?"

Dave shrugged. "Well there's an actual place called 'York' that the founders took it from. Not very original, but before that it was New Amsterdam, so there you go."

The neckerchief guy pursed his lips. "Interesting." He continued, "So, considering my lack of knowledge of the area, I need to trust _someone_, right? And then... I don't know." he took a step towards them, his eyes focused intently on them. "I just have a sense that I should trust you." A dark look crossed his pale face. "I'll admit I've been wrong about people before. And it's cost me. But if the magic acted on its own to bring us together, then I have to believe it was for a good reason." He shook his head. "The fact that I'm telling you all of this is remarkable in and of itself."

"I know what you mean," Miles chuckled. "So, is that all you know?"

"That's about it. Anything else I _should_ know?"

"Well, what else do you want to know?" Dave asked warily.

The boy with the large ears grinned. "Your names would be nice. I don't want to keep referring to you in my head as 'the hooded guy' and 'the short one.'"

Miles glowered. He wasn't that short! Puberty just wasn't done with him yet. He turned his irritation on Dave. "You didn't ask his name or introduce yourself? Way to go."

Dave put down his ice pack and defended, "Excuse me if I was busy trying to figure out how to explain all this without freaking him out."

"Well then, I guess introductions are in order," the high-schooler said. He smiled at the familiar stranger. "I'm Miles."

The college student waved. "Dave."

The boy in the neckerchief, quite nonchalantly, said, "Merlin."

.

The air seemed to still. The friendly smiles of the two other sorcerers slipped off, both letting a single word drop from their lips: "_What?_"

The so-called Merlin frowned, confused. "What's wrong?"

Miles shook his head. _'It's not possible.'_ "Sorry," he said, trying to sound calm, "I must have misheard you, because I could've sworn you said your name is," the high-schooler gulped, then croaked, "_Merlin_."

"No, that's right," said the boy known as Merlin, unaware of the effect his name had on the other two.

Miles glanced over at Dave, who was still staring at the third sorcerer. Miles tried to get his attention, but the physics major was unresponsive. He turned back to the neckerchief guy. "Okay. Right. So, um, Merlin," he said, barely believing what he was saying, but keeping his voice level all the same, "Where exactly are you from?"

"Well, I was born in a little town called Ealdor..." the boy called Merlin responded.

Miles heard Dave exhale a huge sigh of relief, and couldn't help but breathe one of his own. Neither sorcerer knew where this "Ealdor" was, and it didn't help in getting the other boy back, but _any _response was better than –

"...But, I currently live in the city of Camelot."

Dave and Miles cursed in their heads.

"So let me get this straight," Miles said. "Your name is Merlin, you have powerful magic, and you live in Camelot?"

The young man gave him a curious look. "Well, yes. That about sums it up."

Miles leaned back in his chair, his head beginning to spin as he took in the situation. The only lucid thought he had was, _'Well, this definitely explains why he seemed so familiar.'_

"Are you okay?" Merlin asked Miles. "You look ill."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Miles muttered, not really sure if he was.

"This can't be happening." Merlin and Miles turned to see Dave standing up, an odd look on his face.

Merlin glanced at Miles. "Is _he_ okay?" he said, jutting a thumb in Dave's direction.

Miles stared at Dave. "I'm not entirely sure."

As though he hadn't heard the exchange, Dave rambled on, "No, no, no, no, no! This definitely isn't happening!" He began pacing, still holding the ice pack to his head. "Merlin isn't in my apartment. He doesn't look my age. I didn't accidentally pull him from his time, thus putting the space-time continuum as well as my own life in jeopardy. I'm already responsible for a minor, and this whole day in general has just been a disaster, just – no! No more! I never wanted any of this!" He threw the ice pack to the floor. "I quit! I'm done! No more magic, no more Merlinians or Morganians or rings or British people! Why won't they all just leave me _alone?!_" Dave sank to the floor, head in his hands. He tasted sour bile in his throat, uncontrollable tremors wracking his body as he lost all will to function. It was a feeling all too familiar to him, no matter how much he tried to block out those memories of ten years ago. He gave a weak, slightly unhinged laugh. "David Stutler pulling another David Stutler. The psychiatrists will have a field day. " Tank the dog tottled over to Dave and nuzzled his leg with a little whine, clearly noting the distress. Dave didn't even notice.

After a moment of awkward silence, the boy known as Merlin, eyes darting between the nervous wreck and the high-schooler, finally asked, "What exactly is 'pulling a David Stutler'?"

Miles stared at Merlin for few long moments, then sighed, bowing his head. "I have no idea. But I may have to join him."

* * *

><p><em>So, there's Merlin! Yay! And Dave and Miles are officially in a lot of trouble, haha. But they'll all work it out... right?<em>

_I hope I portrayed Merlin and the revelation of his identity well. I do like the idea of Merlin being bewildered by light bulbs, but I'm going to try not to emphasize on the "fish out of water" comedy for Merlin. He's a smart guy, and I hate making him seem dumb just because he's in an unfamiliar time. I know there's a lot this chapter, and I mention some things from the films you guys may not have seen. If you're really, really confused about something, feel free to PM me and I'll try to explain. Much as I don't like giving spoilers, I know I may not be explaining everything clearly here, so I'll be accommodating._

_I'd like to thank Merlyn Pyndragon for beta reading once again, muzicdreamz for listening to my plotting and reading aloud, H20sorceress, izzyibit29, and Tolleren for reviewing, and to everyone who's favorited and put the story on alert! You guys rock! *Virtual hugs* for all (unless you don't like hugs, then I'll give you something else. Maybe a cookie)._

_So, as I said above, Part 5 will be a while, but I'll hint at what you can expect: Merlin discovers some things about the future, Dave and Miles learn some things that turn everything they know about Arthurian legend on its head, Dave's ring is discussed, and one of the three reveals something huge. That's all I'll say ;D_

_Please share your thoughts! I love reading your reactions, questions, jokes, etc. Cheers!_

_~*Astraea*_


	6. Part 5: The Ring

_**_UPDATE 5/31/14:__ Minor revising_**_

_"I'm not dead!"_

_"Here, she says she's not dead."_

_"Yes, she is."_

_"I don't want to go on the cart"_

_Sorry, I'll stop now._

_So, first off, sorry for making you guys wait so long on this chapter! The after-graduation future kind of reared its ugly head once I got back from Spain (taking the GRE tomorrow, actually o.o), and that rather slowed things down._

_Additionally, my senior year of college is now in session, so I'm not sure when I'm going to get to work on this again. I have some handwritten bits and pieces of the next chapter to start with, but don't expect to see anything before Thanksgiving :(_

_You might also notice that I have indeed changed the chapter titles to something a bit more classy (though this wasn't based on the poll since only one person answered it, lol). I have also revised the chapters themselves a little bit - nothing major, but some of the details added may come back later, particularly in Part 3, so I'd suggest doing a re-read right away if you have the chance._

_Big thanks to Merlyn Pyndragon for beta-reading, to Lupinshealer, H20Sorceress, The Poet's Daughter, AuroraKnight, Laughy-Taffy the Grape (nice Catherine Morland pic, btw), pendrahgon, SaraMatta, Tibki, Stiles Holmes, XphiaDP, and alwaysALOHA for commenting, and everyone following on the Favorites and Story Alert lists. Love you guys! As always, please let me know what you think in the comments._

_Okay, let's get on with it ;). Happy reading!_

* * *

><p>Part 5: The Ring<p>

Merlin had experienced some strange things over the years.

On his second day in Camelot, he was lead by a disembodied voice to a cavern underneath the castle, where the last dragon in existence told him his destiny to protect Arthur Pendragon. That enormous creature, gold scales glittering, growling that the royal ass who used servants for target practice was going to bring peace to the land, was by far the most bizarre thing that he'd ever experienced.

But, not the only one.

He had seen Arthur cursed with the ears and voice of a donkey (though, that had been hilarious, considering how the prince acted sometimes).

He had witnessed Arthur's father marry a literal troll (also hilarious, though disgusting).

He'd aged himself into an 80-year-old man (not something he wanted to repeat).

He'd seen the magnificent unicorn, the gateway to Avalon, the Fisher King, the Crystal Cave, and all sorts of fantastic and dangerous things normal people could never fathom.

Yet, despite all this experience, he had no idea what to make of this situation.

Merlin sat in the kitchen, scratching the ears of the dog, whose squashed nose and pronounced jowl were strange to Merlin, yet endearing. "What do you suppose your master is talking about over there, boy?" Merlin whispered to the dog, who leaned into his touch, enjoying the sensation. Merlin couldn't make out what the boys were saying across the room, but from their glances towards him, he could hazard a guess. Though Miles had coaxed Dave out of his trance (or whatever "pulling a David Stutler" was), Dave seemed no less manic than before. And while Miles was more constrained, Merlin recognized his expression from all those times Arthur was leading his men into what seemed certain death – a calm surface hiding a stormy mind.

_How did my name do this? _he wondered. Being recognized by strangers was becoming less and less strange for the young warlock, as many druids knew of the destiny given to him in their prophecies. But, the druids revered him as "Emrys," not as "Merlin." As Merlin, he was a goofy, put-upon servant. Yet Dave and Miles regarded the name Merlin the way the druids regarded Emrys, staring at him in awe. And in fear.

_Fear. _Merlin stared down at his hands. Something was off about his magic, something that was making it more difficult to contain. And that made Merlin more afraid of himself than Miles or Dave could ever be.

It was strange how he'd once resented having to contain his natural ability. Before Camelot, even as his mother warned him about the dangers of his magic being discovered, he used magic whenever he could (Gaius would say he was careless; Merlin preferred "free-spirited"). But, that was before Camelot, before Arthur. Focusing his magic towards their protection had helped him learn responsibility, so that he only let his guard down in distress.

He knew, of course, that controlling his magic had never stopped it from growing. But, the idea that his magic, while he was unconscious, could whisk him from one place to another, along with two others, was... well, it was unsettling. The only other time he'd performed magic while unconscious was when, as he lay dying due to Nimueh's poison, he'd projected a light to guide Arthur out of the caves of Balor. But _that_ phenomenon had been due to his connection to Arthur. This was _different_. Not only had he performed the spell in his sleep, but, if Dave's description was correct, he'd also _pulled Miles and Dave's magic from them_ to complete the spell. Merlin had never worked a spell with another sorcerer, but even for this lack of experience, pulling someone's magic from them did not seem normal.

Not to mention having enough energy left over to throw a man into a wall.

Gaius had once told him he was not a monster for the things he could do. _But some days..._

Merlin sighed, closing his eyes. He couldn't dwell on this. He'd be at it all night if he did, and he had no time for that. He had to get a handle on his magic.

He breathed slowly, reaching to connect with his magic. His fingertips hummed, and then, as though plunging into the Lake of Avalon, Merlin was submerged. He let out a gasp. Heat surged under his skin, rushed up his spine to the top of his head, roaring in his ears.

_Woah. _He was right to surmise that his magic was erratic, but this was intense. It felt like a sputtering flame, yearning to fill the space with light and heat and energy, but not quite able to. _But, why should it want to do that?_ he wondered. There should have been enough magic in the room, particularly with two other sorcerers there, for it to stabilize. Because for all King Uther had supposedly eliminated magic from Camelot, it was always around, in the water, the trees, in the very air - silent, but always stirring. It was a tangible life force that, when he concentrated, seemed to settle over his skin like a blanket. His magic was usually content to stay nestled in this web of energy, balanced.

But now, as he focused his senses on the magic in the room, the air was still.

Merlin felt cold. "That can't be right," he muttered, but probing the ambient energy again, his fear was confirmed. The magic in the space was _low._ Lower than any place he'd ever experienced. He blinked his eyes open, mind reeling. No wonder his magic was reacting strangely! In fact, the only level magic in the room was concentrated on the other side...where Dave and Miles stood bickering.

Once again, Merlin didn't know what to think. Before, he had been willing to trust them, as kin in magic. But, something was not right with this place, and if Dave or Miles had something to do with it, something that could prevent him returning to Camelot, he had to be on alert. After all, even though he considered the dragon and, more recently, the young sorcerer, Gilli, to be kin, they had each posed a threat to Camelot that made him force his hand. And Morgana...

He heard a whine beneath him and saw the dog staring up at him expectantly. Merlin chuckled, reaching down to scratch behind the ear again. "Sorry, boy, got lost in my thoughts there." Glancing up at the two young sorcerers again, Merlin wondered why magic couldn't be more simple.

*-.-*-.-*-.-*-.-*

"Merlin is sitting in my kitchen!"

Miles sighed. "Yes."

"Merlin is sitting in my kitchen, and-and he's giving my dog an ear rub!" Dave cried.

"Yes, I know, but – "

"How can you expect me to be calm about this?!"

"I'm not – "

"Maybe you're used to things like this happening, but for _me_ this is very, very bad!" Dave rambled. He was trying to keep his voice low, as neither of them wanted the warlock across the room to hear them. Currently, he was more hissing than whispering. "I mean, I've seen enough time travel related stuff – y'know, _Back to the Future_, _Doctor Who,_ and whatnot – to know all the horrible things that could go wrong if a person from the past is in the future too long. And with someone like _him_?" He gestured (more like, flung his arm haphazardly) towards Merlin. "Like, all of Britain could just stop existing, or evil sorcerers could take control of the world, or – !"

Miles gritted his teeth, "Yeah, I get it, this is bad. But we need to be a _little_ calmer so we can figure this out."

Dave closed his eyes and took a deep breath, conscious of the feeling of air filtering in and out of his nostrils, down and out of his felt sticky with sweat, exhausted from the strain the panic attack had put on his body. Nonetheless, he said, "All right, yeah, you're right. I'm – I'm better."

"Good."

Dave sighed. "This is really messed up."

"Extremely." Miles crossed his arms. "Any ideas? Y'know, about why this happened?"

"No more than I had before."

"Which would be?"

"The universe hates me."

Miles rolled his eyes. "Really helpful." The teenager peered over at the man across the room, older than him, yet so, _so_ young. "God, just look at him," he whispered, more to himself than to Dave.

"I know, right?" Dave cried, eyeing the lanky young man. "How is he supposed be the most powerful sorcerer of all time?"

"He's definitely not what I had in mind," Miles muttered. The legendary Merlin he'd read about in Allie's parents' books struck him as a tall, wizened figure of power, purveyor of wisdom and mystery. But this guy? Add a few pimples, and he could be a cosplayer at Comic Con. "Then again," he relented, "appearances can be deceiving. I mean, look at us."

Dave squirmed. "What about us?"

Miles hesitated, not wanting to say too much. "Well ... you didn't know I was a sorcerer when you first saw me, and if it wasn't for the whole teleportation thing, I would think you were an average guy."

Dave snorted. "Please, I wish. I would hardly call being a physics nerd and a certified basket case 'average.'"

Miles' expression softened. "You're not a basket case," he assured, knowing well what it was like to be called crazy.

"Says the guy who witnessed my near-nervous breakdown."

Miles shrugged. "You had a good reason."

Dave sighed, "Besides, it's one thing to be a sorcerer, it's another thing to be a _good_ sorcerer. Even at this age, he's still got us beat by a long shot. The guy did magic in his sleep! There's no way we can compare ourselves to him." Dave stuck his hands in his pockets, shrinking into himself. "We're not good at magic. We're - we're not important. We're just nerds. No comparison whatsoever."

"Wow, Dave, glad to know you think so highly of me after an hour of knowing each other."

"Wait, no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… gah!" Dave dragged his hands down his face, wishing he could drag his stress out of his body as well. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It's just been a really bad day."

Miles nodded, understanding. He was known to get snippy himself when he got when upset. "Well, let's try to be positive," he said, trying to channel his inner Allie, "The future most powerful sorcerer is on our side. Maybe if we talk to him about what's happened, we can – "

"No! No, no, no, no no," Dave exclaimed, holding his hands up. "We can't tell him about all this! I mean _we're _barely dealing with the fact that he's here, how's _he_ going to deal with it? You saw how he reacted about us knowing he had magic." He rubbed the lingering ache in his shoulders from his encounter with the wall.

"Oh yeah," Miles mumbled. Then, he added, "But, the longer he's here, we risk changing the future. Wouldn't it be better if he helped us?"

Dave groaned, "No! Telling him he's in the future could_ also _change the future. He'll be wondering how we know about him, and that's major spoiler territory."

Miles glanced over at Merlin again, who was giving them a cursory look of his own. "I think he already _is _wondering."

.

The two continued to volley ideas back and forth, but all the while Dave's dread grew. It felt like, no matter what he did, he was trapped. Trapped with a dangerous visitor he couldn't get rid of, a humiliating past that wouldn't let him be, and a destiny he couldn't live up to - past, present, and future all accounted for. _It's not my destiny,_ he reminded himself. _I'm not the Prime Merlinian. I gave back the book, the old man's shoes, and Balthazar didn't stop me. I'm done, it's over, end of story.__  
><em>

So, why did he still feel like this? Was he guilty about disappointing Balthazar? Was it Becky making him question if he was right to give it all up? Or was it something deeper, that niggling inside him that actually liked magic, that stopped him from throwing the ring away years ago?

One thing was clear to him: if he faced his so-called destiny, he would end up dead. And _still _disappoint Balthazar. So, of course, he chose not to die. He still had a choice... didn't he?

He clenched his hands into fists, and stared down at the dragon ring. He remembered the moment Balthazar had placed the figurine in his hands, how the cold metal had jolted, turned warm in his hand. How the dragon had shaken its head, blinking up at him before climbing under his hand and wrapping around his finger. The moment his fate was sealed.

.

Suddenly, Dave saw Miles go rigid. "Act natural," he hissed through his teeth.

The apprentice turned to see Merlin walking over. He was smiling, but his eyes were tentative. "Hey, how are you feeling? Seems like you've calmed down."

Dave started nodding profusely, heart pounding in his chest. "Yeah, yeah, I'm good, a-okay, absolutely fantastic..."

Miles jabbed Dave's arm and he promptly closed his mouth.

Merlin's eyes trailed between the two. "Right, well, now that that's over, I would appreciate if you could tell me how to get back to Camelot."

Miles and Dave glanced at each other. "We're still trying to figure that part out," Miles said.

"Do you have a map?"

"I doubt that Camelot would show up on any map I have," Dave responded, clenching and unclenching his fists.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Really? You think it's that far?"

"Pretty sure, yeah," Miles muttered.

"Well, do you have any idea of the basic direction?"

They shook their heads.

"A horse I could borrow?"

"I've never even _touched_ a horse," Dave admitted.

Merlin sighed in frustration. "Fine, if you can't help me, perhaps I could go ask in town..." Merlin headed towards the door, intending to call the dragon once he found a clearing.

Dave squeaked, then sprinted and threw himself in front of the door. "No! No, no, no, y-you don't want to do that."

Miles groaned. '_Real subtle, Dave.'_

Merlin gave Dave an expression that could rival Gaius' harshest looks. "And why not?"

Dave's eyes widened as he realized he was potentially inciting the wrath of a very powerful sorcerer. His mind raced. "Um... be-because..." Dave snapped his fingers. "...You need rest! No, wait, you were unconscious before... You haven't eaten! All that magic, y'know," Dave waved his fingers, "takes a lot out of you. I think I have some leftover pizza in the refrigerator."

Miles jumped in with, "Ooh! I could go for some of that myself. I've never had New York pizza."

"Oh, dude, seriously it's the best. You'd both love it."

Merlin realized this was a ploy to divert his attention. He knew well how to play a fool, but it had been a long time since he had actually been that gullible. He folded his arms, and in a low voice, said, "You're hiding something."

Dave gulped as Miles grumbled, "So much for pizza."

Merlin sighed, but kept his stance. "Look," he said slowly. "I don't want to fight you." His eyes darkened. "But, if you try to stop me from getting back to Camelot, you may leave me no choice. So, tell me what's going on."

Dave drew back. It finally sunk in that this Merlin, for all his youth, was truly _the_ Merlin. If the apprentice wasn't afraid before, he was now. Still, he stepped towards the warlock. "We- We're not stopping you getting back to Camelot. In fact, there's nothing I would like better than for you to get back to Camelot."

"Same," Miles added, raising his hand.

"But, it's not that simple. If you know too much, it could be dangerous," Dave continued.

"I've faced danger before," Merlin replied.

"Not like this you haven't," Dave countered. "Look, I'm the one who got you into this mess, so you're my responsibility. I'll do what I can to get you home. But you've got to trust me."

Merlin glanced down. "I _want_ to, I do, but..."

Miles remembered what Merlin had said before, about being mistaken about people. How it had cost him. "Merlin, I know what it's like."

Merlin's eyes darted to Miles. "What?"

"I know what it's like, to make a bad call. To get hurt, or watch someone else get hurt because of it." He stepped towards Merlin. "But, I also know that not everyone's out to get you. And that sometimes you have to keep a secret from someone for their own good." He gave Merlin a fixed look. "I have a feeling you've had to do that as well."

The warlock faltered, his arms slipping to his sides. "Only every day of my life."

Dave and Miles exchanged a glance. Miles meant to strike a nerve, but ... had he gone too far?

After a moment's hesitation, Dave gave Merlin an awkward, but reassuring pat on the shoulder. Normally, Merlin would have pulled himself together and thanked Dave for the kind gesture. He might have even extended his trust to Dave, finally.

.

But the dragon ring on Dave's finger did something that stopped any and all thoughts dead.

.

The emerald on the ring sparked to life, casting an unearthly glow on the warlock's skin. Then, as if awaking from a slumber, the little dragon shook its head, unwinding its tail from around Dave's finger.

"What's it doing?" Merlin asked.

But Dave couldn't answer, watching in horrified fascination as the dragon leapt off his finger and crawled down Merlin's arm, miniscule claws latching to the fabric of his jacket. Once it settled in Merlin's hand, it didn't turn back into a ring, as Dave would expect, but instead it nuzzled his finger like a lonely housecat.

Merlin saw none of this, because the very moment the metal touched his skin, his magic reacted, forcing his eyes closed. An immense power had created the dragon ring, that much Merlin could tell. But, there was something else about it that seemed natural to him, intimate – like seeing an old friend.

Miles' eyes were forced close at the same instant. Images flashed behind his closed eyelids: his hand clasped around a flaming torch as he gazed up at a huge, golden-scaled creature that almost seemed to smirk. It opened its jaws and aimed a fireball right towards him...

...And, with a jolt, he was back in the apartment. '_Huh, no pain again.'_ Then, his eyes widened as he realized, '_Was that a **dragon**?'_

Before Miles could mull over this, Dave burst out, "Oh _crud, _that's right, it's yours!" The apprentice clutched his head, stumbling back as he stared at Merlin. "I totally forgot it was your ring!"

Though the other two were a bit slow on the uptake, they realized simultaneously:

"_My_ ring?"

"_His_ ring?"

Dave glanced between the great warlock and the high school student. "Okay, that was creepy."

"How did you get Merlin's ring?" Miles asked, his mind racing to wrap around all the implications. "And how could you not mention this?"

Dave backed away as he came closer. "I told you, I forgot!"

Miles cried, "That's an important detail to forget."

"I just found out yesterday!" the apprentice defended.

"Who are you?" Dave and Miles turned to see Merlin taking a step away from them, his eyes boring into them. "I've never met either of you, yet you know my name, you know of my magic, and you aren't letting me leave."

Dave flinched, a weak chuckle escaping him. "Well, when you say it like that it sounds shifty, doesn't it?"

He stepped towards them, making Dave and Miles back away. "No more lies, no more aversions. Tell me what's going on, and how to get back to Camelot, or you will regret it."

Dave's back met the wall. "L-Let's all just calm down, okay? We don't want your magic to act up again."

"I think it's too late for that," Miles whispered beside him, staring at the small objects all around the room rising into the air. He drew his hand to the "pen" in his pocket. Would they have to fight Merlin? _Could_ they?

Merlin's eyes narrowed. "If my magic is acting up, it's only because this place is devoid of it. Care to explain that as well?"

Dave held up his hands, crying, "I don't know what you're talking about!"

.

_"That's enough."_

_._

The three young sorcerers froze, staring at each other. Not only had that last statement not originated among them – it had not been spoken aloud.

Their gazes shifted downwards to the miniature silver dragon in Merlin's hand. The living figurine stared up at them as the voice sounded in their minds again: _"Greetings."_

The floating objects fell from the air, but none of them noticed.

Dave felt faint. "The ring is talking."

"I'm guessing it's never done that before?" Miles asked, feeling a bit dizzy himself.

Dave glared at the high schooler. "You think?" He crouched down to glare at the dragon. "I swear, if Balthazar is doing this, I'm going to – "

Suddenly, Merlin shushed him, eyes wide. "I know that voice."

Miles started. "You do?" He thought the voice sounded like Ollivander in the _Harry Potter_ films, but that made even less sense than the actual talking did.

Merlin raised the figurine to eye level, staring. It didn't seem possible. But then, was it stranger than anything else he'd encountered? "Kilgharrah?"

A low rumble of content stirred in his mind. _"Young warlock. It's been a long, long time..."_

* * *

><p><em>I'll be honest with you guys, I didn't have that last twist planned until the beginning of this summer. I always knew the ring would be connected to Kilgarrah and that it would activated upon recognizing its creator, but the talking kind of just occurred to me as I was outlining this chapter - I needed someone to come in and be Mr. Exposition, who better than our scaly friend? I *really* enjoyed writing that bit, but I don't know, I hope you guys don't think it's too silly.<em>

_Just a couple of things:_

_1. Thinking over Merlin's history (at least as far as Series 4, since I'm still avoiding Series 5 like the plague), it really is sad that Merlin never did magic *with* someone. He's always using it against other sorcerers or keeping it secret. The closest he ever came was showing his magic to Gilli in "The Sorcerer's Shadow" and fighting alongside Gaius in "The Coming of Arthur Part 2." That plus "Every day of my life" ? Merlin needs a hug :(_

_Also, it was tricky trying to write Merlin as confrontational but not threatening when he's talking to the boys. Again, he's rarely been in a situation the likes of this one - he usually knows pretty quickly whether someone is good or evil, but with Dave and Miles he's trying to feel things out. He can't go into combat mode, but he can't go into "silly Merlin" mode either since they know he has magic, nor can he be in "Gaius mode" like he was with Gilli. With nothing in canon to compare it to, I was kind of relying on my own interpretation of Merlin's character. What do you guys think of how he came across? Did it make sense?_

_2. I've had New York pizza on more than one occasion, it is indeed the best XD I almost had them actually sit down and eat, but I realized that would slow the pacing down and take longer to write, so I skipped it. Maybe later they can get some XD_

_3. Yes, I made a John Hurt reference. A bit meta, but I couldn't resist :P I mean, the man has officially played the three coolest things in the world : a wizard, a dragon, and the Doctor. Deserves a shout out_

_Well that's it for now. For any questions or comments feel free to PM or post something in a review. Next up, Kilgharrah drops some exposition, Merlin experiences culture shock, Dave and Miles get more of their expectations about Camelot shattered, and someone close to one of our heroes is put in danger! (of course, if you've seen the Sorcerer's Apprentice, you know who it is, but it's good to keep the Merlin-only fans in suspense). So, 'til the next time!_

_~*Astraea*_


	7. Part 6: The Dragon

_Guess who's a college graduate now? :D_

_I'm sorry it took so long to update, but this last year of college put me through a lot. I've had to say a lot of goodbyes while making plans for the future. So, I had to put this on the back burner. I've still been percolating ideas about where I'm going with it, but I had little time to actually write it and edit it. But, I'm back and out of school, so hopefully the next update won't take nearly 9 months._

_Just a couple orders of business: _

_First of all, **I have posted a revised version of Part 5** along with this update, so please check that out, since it clarifies some things that weren't clear in the original version._

_Secondly, a reviewer brought up that this story "should" be in the crossover section, even though I do note that it is a crossover in my summary. Now, I haven't done this for two reasons, one of which I stated in the Background Info. I mean, even publishers categorize short story cycles as novels to sell better. The second thing is, since this is a 3-way crossover, I don't know which crossover section I would put it in - Sorcerer's Apprentice or Avalon High? I would lean more to Sorcerer's Apprentice due to a stronger fandom and that the story takes place within the events of that film, but that's me. Or should Merlin be taken out of the mix to make this an Avalon High/Sorcerer's Apprentice crossover?_

_Though I want this to be seen by more readers, I do want to be fair to the site, and to my fellow readers and writers. Since I'm not sure how to address this, I'll leave it to you guys: **Should this stay a Merlin fanfic? Or should I categorize it as a crossover? If so, what kind? **This is a big decision, so I would appreciate reader input. If you have opinions about this, I will ask that you PM me rather than post in the review section._**_  
><em>**

_Disclaimer: I own none of these works, or their characters. I especially don't own the scene detailed at the end of this chapter from The Sorcerer's Apprentice._

_And now, the moment you've all been waiting for: Part 6!_

* * *

><p>Part 6: The Dragon<p>

Merlin tilted his head, staring, open-mouthed, at his friend. After a moment trying to find the words to express his amazement, he simply said, "You're... small."

Kilgharrah huffed. _"Very observant, Merlin,"_ he drawled, his wizened voice reverberating in their heads._ "Yes, I am small. I am also an animate piece of jewelry. Do keep up."_

"But who did this to you?" He pointed to Dave. "Was it him?"

"Hey!" Dave argued. "He came to me like this! How could I know there was a-a conscious person in there?" If he had known, he probably wouldn't have left the ring in his sock drawer all those years.

_"No matter,"_ Kilgharrah said. _"I have not been conscious until now."_

Dave sighed in relief. "Oh, good!"

_"And I've never been human."_

"What are you?" Miles asked.

The figure puffed out its chest. _"In life, I was of the noble breed of dragons."_

"Dragon?!" Dave jumped back, eyes wide as saucers. "Oh God, not another one!"

Miles's eyes also widened, but not because of the existence of a dragon. He realized this must have been the dragon from his vision - a vision of the past, rather than the future. "That explains the shape of the ring."

Merlin turned to Dave, eyebrow raised. "You've seen a dragon before?"

Dave started, then recomposed himself. "Well, it wasn't a real dragon, like, hatched from an egg, but it was real enough to nearly charbroil me."

_"Do not fear, Master David,"_ the former dragon said. _"I have not always been peaceful, I must admit, but even if I were my former size, I would not hurt you. We are bonded, after all, as ring and sorcerer."_

Suddenly, Merlin went rigid.

"What's wrong?" Miles asked.

But Merlin didn't respond. Instead, he lifted the dragon until they were staring eye-to-eye. In a low voice, he asked, "When you said you were a dragon 'in life,' what did you mean?"

The statuette looked up at Merlin, a touch of sadness on his brow. _"I'm afraid... this is not my true self, Merlin. Only part of my soul has been sealed in this ring, by my own choice. The rest has departed this world, beyond the veil."_

Merlin felt as though he'd been pierced by that serket in the woods all over again. "But... but I don't understand," he said, voice trembling. Kilgharrah and he hadn't been getting along well lately, but he couldn't be gone, not like this. He hated to admit it, but he cared about the old dragon. He was one of the few who knew him for what he really was, and was an invaluable resource for protecting the kingdom. "I just saw you the other day. I-I had to talk to you about Gilli, remember? The sorcerer who entered the tournament –"

_"It was the other day for you, yes. But for myself, it has been much longer."_

Dave and Miles glanced to each other, wide-eyed.

"Wait," Dave started, "You're not going to–"

_"You are under the impression, Merlin,"_ the dragon interceded,_ "that you have only been transported through space. But, this is not so. You have been transported through space __**and **__through time, to the year 2010 Anno Domini."_

Dave and Miles flinched. Well, he'd said it.

The blood seemed to drain from Merlin's face. "Two-thousand-and...no, that's impossible."

_"Think on it, Merlin. The apprentice and the wizard knew you by name, because your name has become legend over hundreds of years. They have stopped you from leaving, afraid you would be overwhelmed by this future world. And by now I'm sure you've noticed the level of magic is different from what you're used to."_

Merlin started. He couldn't deny the lack of magic. But could this really be why? "Prove it."

The figurine's metal mouth seemed to smirk. _"Merlin, your sense for magic is almost as honed as mine. Can you not tell who else's magic is in this ring?"_

Merlin blinked. Then, slowly, he wrapped his fingers around the figure, and closed his eyes. Again, he could sense that the immense magic in the object easily, but it would take a little more focus to identify it. Part of it belonged to the Great Dragon himself, that was certain. He knew his magic well, like the voice of a friend, or the scent of his home in Ealdor. The other part was a magic nearly as old as the dragon's, something like the magic on the Isle of the Blessed. Yet again, he sensed something familiar and affectionate about the energy. Then, his magic surged, hot and seething, down his arm. It coalesced in his hand, the energy thrumming under his skin... and the ring hummed in sync.

"It's mine," he realized, breathless. "It's my magic, but it's_..._ _old." _He pinched his eyes shut, shaking his head. "No, that's not the word. The magic itself isn't aged, but the spells have been in place a long time. It's..."

"Meant to last?" Miles offered.

"Yes!" Merlin said. "The magic was meant to last. For _centuries_, it feels like." He looked to the dragon. "But I've never cast a spell like this."

_"Not__** yet.**__"_

And then, it sank in. "I'm really in the future." He felt limp as he dropped onto the couch behind him.

After a moment, Miles asked, "You okay?"

Merlin nodded slowly, still dazed. "I will be. It's not the most shocking thing I've ever heard, but it's ... a lot to process."

"Understatement of the year," Dave mumbled. "For the record, though, you're taking this a lot better than I expected."

Merlin sat there for what felt like an age, letting his mind absorb the news until, finally, he looked to the dragon. "You said I had become legend. What of Arthur? Camelot?"

Miles blinked in surprise. How could a Merlin so young know about Arthur?

The dragon chuckled. _"You __**would**__ ask about them first. Both are legends, but both have long since passed into myth, as have you and I."_

Merlin sank back into the couch, eyes staring ahead. Arthur was dead, his kingdom gone. Of course it was natural, it had been a thousand years. The fact that anyone knew their names at all was remarkable – they truly would be remembered through the ages, as had been foretold. But, it felt wrong for him to be standing in a time and place where his friend and his destiny did not exist.

Sensing his thoughts, Kilgharrah added, _"Take heart, Merlin, you'll be back with Arthur soon enough."_

Merlin nodded slowly, then turned to Dave. "I'm guessing this is what you meant when you said the ring was mine_._"

Dave shrugged. "Basically, yeah. You're not still mad at us, are you?"

Merlin gave a small smile. "No. If anything, I'm sorry I reacted so harshly."

"Still doesn't explain how you got the ring, though," Miles muttered, arms crossed.

_"The ring is rightfully his, make no mistake about that,"_ the dragon said as it scurried up Merlin's arm to perch on his shoulder._ "One of the enchantments placed by the older Merlin was that the magic in the ring would not activate until it found its rightful owner. The other was that I would not awaken until the ring had summoned and made contact with Merlin. As you can see, Merlin's magic never fails – at least, when properly applied."_

Merlin shook his head at the mention of his older self. He could now say this was the strangest thing he had ever experienced.

Dave repeated, _"_Would not awaken until the ring summoned...?" His eyes widened. "Wait, are you saying... you knew this would happen? _Merlin _knew this would happen?!"

Kilgharrah nodded.

"So, time isn't gonna be screwed up because Merlin's here?" Miles asked.

_"Correct. His memory of the events of this day, of you two, will be wiped from his memory until close to his death, at which point he will take action to ensure things would go as they should. This included making sure I would be here to tell you what you needed to know. Thus, here I am."_

Merlin frowned at the fact that he wasn't going to remember Dave or Miles after all this was over, but considering his experiences dealing with foreknowledge, maybe it was for the best.

Dave, however, threw his hands in the air and cried, "Why couldn't anyone have mentioned that before?! Shouldn't there be a warning in the Encantus, like: 'Hey, Dave, don't freak out if Merlin is summoned through time and lands at your feet – that's totally normal'?" He marched up to the dragon and glared down at it. "And this isn't the first time you've caused me trouble."

The figurine bared its teeth, and leapt from Merlin's shoulder to Dave's arm, tiny claws latching onto his sleeve. _"The only reason, David, that this occurred was because __**you **__needed help, so I would not be so quick to lay blame."_

"I didn't ask for help!"

_"You wished that someone would understand."_

Merlin and Miles glanced at each other. Dave started to correct him, but the words died in his throat. He had wished that, hadn't he? "I...well..." he sighed. "This wasn't what I had in mind."

"Who would?" Miles wondered.

_"Maybe not, but it's what you'll need. Especially for what's coming."_

Merlin stood up. "What's coming?"

A growl of disapproval rumbled in their heads. _"I gather he hasn't told you, then."_

Miles glanced at Dave. "About what?"

Kilgharrah sighed. _"Morgana."_

Their blood ran cold at the name. "No," Merlin whispered. The witch's face swam before his eyes – dark wavy locks tumbling past her shoulders, a malicious smirk hidden to all but him.

"Morgana?" Miles asked the dragon. "As in_ Morgana le Fay?_ She's alive?"

_ "She was never called le Fay in our time, but yes."_

"But, if we're so far in the future, how could she still be alive?" Merlin asked. Why Morgana, and not Arthur?

_"She has been trapped in a magical device you will later invent, called the Grimhold, which keeps her in suspended animation – she cannot die, but she cannot cast spells either. However, there are forces gathering that wish to free her, and if they succeed, she will cast a spell that will doom the entire world."_

Merlin scoffed. "What, just conquering a kingdom wasn't enough for her anymore?" Despite playing it off, inside, he was hurt. Though he had seen what Morgana had become, and was determined to stop her from hurting the kingdom, there was a tiny part of him that had hoped that she could still be redeemed. But if she was still so wicked after a thousand years, how could he hold out any hope?

"Wait," Miles said, interrupting Merlin's thoughts, "what does Morgana have to do with Dave?"

Dave gulped as the two other sorcerers looked at him inquisitively. He glanced down at the ring. "Mr. Dragon, could you maybe explain all this?"

The figure gave him a withering look._"Never call me that again. And you must be the one to explain, Master David."_

Dave's voice hiked up an octave as he said, "What?! Why?"

_"You must take ownership of your own story."_

"What does that even mean?" he argued. But, with all eyes on him, he caved and said, "Fine. You're gonna want to sit down for this." So they did, and Dave began, "At some point in your future, Merlin, sorcerers will fall into two sects: the Merlineans and the Morganians. Merlineans are the good guys, and they'll follow you and your example, hence the term 'Merlineans.' And the Morganians are evil jerkfaces, and they follow–"

"Morgana, yeah. I get it," Merlin muttered, downcast.

Miles peered sideways at him. He'd read many different versions of Arthurian legends, all with different relationships between Morgana and Merlin. But which one was the true one? Clearly she had meant something to him once, or he wouldn't sound so bitter about her. Miles just hoped they hadn't been romantically involved. That would be more than a bit awkward.

"Anyway," Dave continued, "Merlin, you had this apprentice–"

"An apprentice? Really?" Merlin's eyes brightened, and he found himself smiling. He had thought about teaching magic ever since the young sorcerer, Gilli, had left Camelot. Although he had been able to teach Gilli a lesson about magic, he had desired to teach him _actual_ magic. The idea thrilled him. He liked to imagine a day, after Arthur lifted the ban on magic and brought peace to Albion, that he could have a student.

"Go on," Miles told Dave, seeing Merlin was lost in thought.

"Okay, so," Dave continued, "your apprentice, Balthazar - you trusted him enough that when you... well... died," Dave gave Merlin a moment to settle with that idea, then went on, "you gave your dragon ring to him so that he could identify your successor, the..." And Dave sighed, before drawling out, "the _Prime Merlinean_, who is, apparently, the only one who can destroy Morgana–"

"Mor-_gah_-na," Merlin interrupted.

"What?"

"You were saying it wrong."

Dave threw his hands out. "I'm American! Sue me." Merlin looked perplexed by the statement. "Oh, right, you wouldn't … never mind. Anyway, the Prime Merlinean is the only one who can destroy Mor-_gah-_na," he looked pointedly at Merlin, "once and for all. Like, forever."

Merlin and Miles paused, letting the information sink in. Miles leaned towards Dave. "So, if you're the rightful owner of the ring, does that mean–"

"–that you're my successor?" Merlin finished, mystified.

Dave sighed. This was the part he didn't want to talk about. "Well, apparently we are distantly related. And the ring seems to think I have the potential."

_"I don't think so,"_ Kilgharrah purred in his ear,_ "I __**know **__so__."_

If Dave could strangle the metal figure, he would. "The thing is, you aren't really the Prime Merlinean until you don't need the ring to cast spells anymore. A point which... I haven't reached yet." _'Nor will I ever,'_ he thought.

Merlin stared at the boy. On the one hand, he felt relieved to find a connection to this stranger, so that he didn't feel so alone in this place and time. But, he was also sad. This boy from the future had the weight of the world on his shoulders, all because Merlin had failed to stop Morgana all those years ago. So, he stood up and put a hand on Dave's shoulder. "You'll get there," he said gently. "It's not like I always get spells right on the first try."

Dave frowned. "You're just saying that. I mean, you're freaking Merlin."

Merlin crossed his arms. "I don't know what your stories have said about me, but I can tell you, I'm not perfect. Not even close. I've had potions explode in my face. I've worked on spells through the night, failing over a hundred times before I got it right. I've cast a spell that I couldn't undo when I needed to. And some spells I'm still not great at – healing for one."

_"Not to mention all the times you came running to me for help,"_ Kilgharrah added.

Merlin rolled his eyes at the dragon, but nodded in agreement. He turned back to Dave, "The point is, being a good sorcerer doesn't mean being able to do a spell on the first try. It means giving yourself room to grow, and having humility enough to admit you need help. Something, I can tell you, that Morgana has never learned." He glanced downwards, his eyes dark. "Or, if she knew it once, she has since forgotten."

This confirmed to Miles what he had thought before. To lighten the mood, he joked, "And seriously, who came up with 'Prime Merlinean' anyway? They couldn't just call you 'The Chosen One' like those other fantasy heroes?"

Dave rolled his eyes. "You're telling me." He turned to Merlin, his expression softened. "Thanks." He wasn't sure if he believed Merlin, but he appreciated the warlock's confidence.

Merlin smiled. "Anytime." Then, he said, "I do have to ask, though: why would you need the ring to cast spells at all? I've never needed any device to focus my magic. I know some who have, but certainly not every sorcerer I've met."

_"You forget, Merlin, that sorcerers who are not creatures of the Old Religion, as you are, have always needed something exterior to channel magic."_ said the dragon. _"Whether that be through spells, poultices, or herbs._ _And there came a point, after the Golden Age of Camelot, that the power of the Old Religion began to retreat from the realm. _Not to fade completely, mind, but to loosen its grip. ___Sorcerers thus had to turn more to the magic within, and many of the old practices fell away. Magical objects, like the Grimhold, were still created, and _Merlineans and Morganians also created new practices, but it still became limited._ Those practitioners who remained became reliant on magic conductors, some to produce magic, some to stop magic from spilling out of them. Even you needed a ring after a while, for reasons that I think are clear now."_

Merlin nodded. "My magic keeps wanting to spread out and fill the void." He could feel it humming in his fingertips even at this moment, want to burst out and seep into the air. "Why did the magic retreat in such a way?"

_"I cannot say."_

Merlin sighed. "Of course you can't," he mumbled.

After an awkward silence, Miles went ahead and asked, "So, what happened to the apprentice, by the way?"

"Oh, he's still alive," Dave said. "Older Merlin cast a spell to keep him the same age while he was searching all those years."

Merlin's eyebrows shot up. "I did _what_ now?"

Dave continued, "And then he found me, gave me the ring, got trapped in a magic urn for ten years, came back, found me again, and after helping him retrieve the Grimhold, I agreed to be his apprentice. Aaaand that's the story." Well, it was if you left out the terrors, nervous breakdowns, and abandonment of his training.

Ignoring the "ten years in an urn" thing (which did strike him as curious), Miles interjected, "Wait, so he's your master? He teaches you magic?"

"Yup."

He raised an eyebrow, eyes half-lidded. "So, you knew a magic expert this whole time whom we could have asked for help, and you said _nothing_?"

"...Ssssorta?"

Merlin held up his hands. "Hate to interrupt, but can someone tell me how I managed to keep a man alive for a thousand years?"

_"If you recall, Merlin, you do have the power over life and death."_

Merlin's head swiveled around to look at the dragon. His eyes narrowed. "I would never use that power again, Kilgharrah. You know that. Not with the Old Religion's price."

_"Because you've __**never**__ killed anyone in the line of duty?"_

Merlin squirmed. "We both know it's an entirely different thing." Still, could his future self have possibly forgotten all the anguish that power caused, even if used for the best intentions?

"Whoa, whoa, what's this about killing people?" Miles asked as he bolted up from his seat, a tremor in his voice.

Merlin peered at Miles, curious. He seemed more struck by the idea that Merlin had killed people than he himself had. Perhaps the so-called legends had painted a different picture of him?

"There is a power," Merlin explained, his tone grave, "to be able to give back a life, or to create a new one. But to give a life, another must be taken. It's a rare gift, only wielded by the most powerful of sorcerers."

"Like you," Dave said. And it wasn't a question.

Merlin pressed his mouth in a thin line. "...Yes. Like me. But, I've only ever used that power once, and I didn't realize what it was I'd done until afterwards. I hoped to never use it again." He looked back to the dragon. "Please, Kilgharrah, I need to know what I did..." He trailed off, suddenly unsure, "...Er, what I _will_ do, rather...no, wait..."

"Just go with 'did,' it's easier," Miles suggested. Merlin nodded, feeling this was getting stranger by the minute.

Kilgharrah sighed. _"You did use your power over life and death. But you did not sacrifice another life to make the deal – you gave your own, instead."_

The three sorcerers were struck silent, staring at the dragon. Even Merlin, though relieved he had not stooped so low, was surprised.

_"You see, Merlin, you were given a vision. You knew you would die soon, although," _the dragon murmured, a touch of grief in his voice,_ "you did not know how it would come to pass. But, knowing it would happen, and knowing David would come along, you made a deal with the Old Religion that, when you perished, your life would be given to your three apprentices, so that they could await the Prime Merlinean's arrival."_

"Three? The Old Religion took that deal?" Merlin asked, surprised.

_"Well, it was __**you**__. As I said, it was loosening its grip on this world by then. It was more willing to work with you to preserve enough of the old magic for the world to still work, and to cultivate the new. To keep three alive to protect the Prime Merlinean was a price they were willing to pay. Especially since Morgana's plan would upset the balance of life and death to a catastrophic degree."_

"Is she using an army of skeletons again?"

_"No, young warlock, something far worse than that." _The dragon peered up at Dave.

Dave took his cue, and explained, "It's this ritual called 'The Rising.' It will bring back evil dead sorcerers from all over the world so that she can enslave mankind."

Miles' eyes widened. "Like, _all _of them?"

Merlin paled. "So every evil sorcerer I've killed: Mary Collins, Edwin Muirden, Nimueh, Cornelius Sigan..."

_"...And every evil sorcerer that has died in the thousand years since, yes. I'm afraid so."_

Merlin shook his head. "We can't let that happen."

_ "Exactly. That's why you and the wizard are here."_

"But, wait," Miles said. "Isn't our victory a moot point? If Merlin went back to the past unharmed, doesn't that mean we already know this will turn out well?"

Dave stood up, a grin stretching across his face. "You're right! We win! Oh man, that's such a relief..."

_"It's not that simple."_

Dave dropped back into the chair. "Oh, come on! Why not?"

_"Merlin got back unharmed, yes. But the battle in the future was not yet done when it happened."_

They paused to let this sink in. "Ohhhh!"

_"Yes. Once Merlin has fulfilled his role, he will be pulled back to his time. **Y**_**_our_**_ fates will remain to be seen."_

"But I can't just leave them to face Morgana by themselves!" Merlin cried. "What kind of role would pull me out before the fight was over?"

_ "A role that will make sure you don't die before your destiny with Arthur is complete."_

That shut Merlin up quickly.

Despite all the stress the warlock from the past had put him through, Dave was impressed that Merlin would stay to help them fight Morgana, even though he had to get back to Camelot. He could see why Balthazar became his apprentice. Still, he had to wonder, _"_Why is Miles here, though? He has nothing to do with this mess."

Miles gulped.

_"His role will be revealed in time," _was all the dragon said.

Dave rolled his eyes. "Well, that's a diplomatic answer."

"I don't know what that means," Merlin said. "But if it means vague and unhelpful, then I agree." He smirked at Kilgharrah. "A thousand years and you haven't changed a bit."

A crease appeared in the metal dragon's brow. _"That well may be. But I was asked by you, Merlin, not to say more than that."_

Merlin blinked. Between the foresight and the secrecy, he was starting to think he was going to turn into Kilgharrah when he got older. Minus the scales, of course.

"Okay," Miles said, glancing at the dragon, "So, we know Merlin has a thing for dragons, Dave is Merlin's great-times-a-hundred grandnephew or something, and Morgana wants to initiate the zombie apocalypse. Is there anything else we need to know?"

_"Merlin instructed me to leave one last message for each of you before I reverted back to ring state." _

Merlin frowned. "Do you have to?"

The dragon leapt back into Merlin's hand, silver wings fluttering. _"As I said before, Merlin, my time on this earth is done. This is just an echo of what I was. David needs me as a ring so he can become strong enough to defeat Morgana."_

Merlin nodded sadly. "Go on, then."

The dragon turned to Dave. _"First, Master David."_

Dave bent down to look the dragon in the eye. "Any chance you're about to tell me how to defeat Morgana?"

_"I'm afraid you have to figure that out on your own."_

Dave shrugged. "Worth a shot."

_"Merlin did, however, wish to tell you this: you are not his inferior. In many ways, you are equal – in magic, in intelligence, and in character. But you have also been given something that neither Merlin nor Morgana ever had. With all this, you may be able to fulfill your destiny, if only you have the courage to seize it."_

Dave wrinkled his nose. "Uh...thanks?" He thought that Balthazar must have learned his knack for useless mottos from the dragon. Even if he wanted to go back to his destiny, how could he face Balthazar again? It was not an option.

The dragon peered up at Merlin. _"Merlin, you should know that Camelot, though gone, still has its allies, and its enemies. And though some things may seem changed from what you knew, at their core, they are the same." _Then, the metal dragon appeared to smile. _"Also, I may not be alive, but I am glad I had the chance to see you again."_

Merlin had no idea what that could be referring to. But Kilgharrah was kin, and he trusted he would understand in time. "Thank you."

Finally, he leapt onto the high schooler's palm. Miles felt a slight hum in his hand as he heard the dragon say, _"For you, young wizard, Merlin had no particular words of wisdom – only a warning."_

Miles frowned. "And that is?"

The dragon's blank, metal eyes narrowed, as it growled two words: _"Brace yourself." _

Miles barely had a second to process the warning before its intent became clear. Pain slammed into his skull, making him topple to his knees. As the dragon leapt to Dave's finger and wrapped his tail around his finger once more, a scene unfolded before Miles's shut eyes:

_A man with tangled blonde hair and a rawhide trench coat pulled a waterlogged volume off the stone floor, brushing the excess off as he frowned, disappointed. _

_ "Hi."_

_ The man looked up to see a familiar sweatshirt-clad boy at the top of a set of iron stairs. "Hello," he greeted back._

_ "I'm sorry," Dave Stutler continued stiffly as he started down the stairs. "I think you and I need to have a talk."_

_ "No apology necessary," the man replied softly. "Let us move on."_

_ The boy gave a wry grin. "You're a diamond, mate."_

_ But neither the grin nor the voice were true, and the older man knew it. His eyes darted to the boy's hand – black-polished nails, and no dragon ring. Not-Dave, seeing the look, clicked his tongue and smirked. "Aw." The disguise had been compromised, but before the older man could react, the boy cupped his hands and thrust forward a wave of magic, sending the man flying into a huge copper wire plate. The man groaned as the wires wrapped themselves around his wrists and ankles, trapping him. As he looked up, Not-Dave's face shifted, replaced by another's – a handsome man with spiky, bleached blonde hair, which he quickly preened back into place with his fingers._

_ "Surprisingly well done," said a suave British voice. Another man, with oily black hair, moustache, and white coat, now strode down the stairs as though he owned the place. "Now," he said to the younger man, "go find the Grimhold."_

Miles gasped as the vision dispersed. He found himself on the ground for the third time today, Dave and Merlin standing above him.

"Are-are you okay?" Dave asked, waving his hand in front of Miles' face. The dragon ring had coiled itself around Dave's finger once again.

Miles' eyes darted up to the college student. "We have got to stop meeting like this."

Dave glared. "Seriously, dude, we've had enough scares today. Just tell us what happened."

Miles sighed. "Your master, Balthazar, does he have scraggly blonde hair and an ancient-looking trench coat?"

Dave glanced at Merlin, who looked just as confused as he felt. He turned back to Miles. "How did you know that?"

Miles raised himself onto his elbows. He hesitated - he hadn't wanted to tell them about the other part of his power. But a man's life was at stake, possibly the world's. So, he braced himself and said, "I saw him. And he's about to be in some serious trouble."

* * *

><p><em>Miles's vision is taken directly from a scene in <span>The Sorcerer's Apprentice<span>, so this does not belong to me._

_I know this chapter had a lot of explanations, some of which will not be entirely clear yet, but I hope you guys liked it. I had quite a bit of fun writing Kilgharrah this chapter, and part of me hates to see him go so soon, but Dave does need his ring. Plus, we've got some more fun characters on the way to make up for it :)_

_A couple of notes:_

_-Yeah, Morgana being alive? That was one of those necessary changes I mentioned in past chapters. I mean, she's the main antagonist of _ Sorcerer's Apprentice, so she had to be alive to do that.__

_-Merlin's exchange with Dave about Morgana's name was addressing something that bugged me in the Sorcerer's Apprentice film, in which everyone, even the British actors, said it the American way, with "gan" sounding more like "can." I mean, I am American, so I get it, but since Merlin actually knows Morgana i felt he should correct Dave. Miles says it correctly because he was repeating how Kilgharrah said it._

_-The idea that Merlin would not want to use his power over life and death (demonstrated at the end of Series 1) is partially inspired by Alaia Skyhawk's "A Question of Motives," but mostly I wrote this because I think it makes sense for canon Merlin. Considering that power caused the Purge, and nearly took his mother and Gaius away from him, he would never use that power unless it was guaranteed that Merlin would be the one taken in the bargain. I wanted to play with this, since it was the only way I could reconcile the Sorcerer's Apprentice canon that Merlin was able to cast a spell to keep his three apprentices from aging for a thousand years._

_-Probably the hardest thing I had to do this chapter was reconcile why sorcerers need rings/magical devices (and even Miles needs his staff) in Sorcerer's Apprentice when in Merlin they usually do not (although there are some odd cases like Gilli's ring in "The Sorcerer's Shadow"). That is a big part of why I planted the "weak magic" thing last chapter, further explored here. I will be building on this in future chapters, but let me know if you think the idea is plausible so far._

_Thank you to everyone who favorited and followed since last chapter, and to Tolleren, XphiaDP, AuroraKnight, NameGary, and Tibki for your reviews!_

_Please review and ** remember to vote in the categorization poll!** Thanks!_

_~*Astraea*_


	8. Part 7: The Vision

_Author's Note: Hey, look! It's only been two months this time!_

_Hope you all are having a great summer! I've been busy with supplemental classes and applying for jobs (Postgrad unemployment FTW), but I really didn't want to keep you guys waiting after the 9 months between Parts 5 and 6! This chapter is a little shorter than the last few have been, I admit. It was a *lot* longer when I first wrote it, but I decided to split it, since the second section needs more work than the first. _

_I'm including a **trigger warning for 9/11** in this chapter. Looking back, I probably should have included one in Part 1 as well (and may go back and change this at some point), but I actually didn't know what trigger warnings were back in 2012. I make a direct mention of it in this chapter because it's the biggest change that occurred in New York City in the ten years between 2000 and 2010, and Sorcerer's Apprentice didn't mention it *at all*. Now, I know it couldn't because it's a kids movie - half of the intended audience were probably under 5 years old when this tragedy happened. But as someone who lives near New York, who worked near the memorial at one point, and who knew a family deeply affected by this event, I felt, somewhere, I had to mention it. It didn't feel right not to acknowledge it, not for Dave and not for me. If you feel strongly about this, please PM me. _

_Also, the poll from last chapter is still up on my profile page, but only two people have voted. **Please vote if you have a strong opinion AGAINST keeping this crossover as a Merlin fanfic. **__If you have opinions about this, I will ask that you PM me rather than post in the review section._

_Thanks to Tolleren, SaraMatta, and Laughy-Taffy the Grape for your reviews, to Merlyn Pyndragon and muzicdreamz for looking it over, and to everyone still following our sorcerers' twisted tale :) _

_Sit back, relax, and enjoy! See if you can spot a Doctor Who quote in here ;)_

_Disclaimer: I own none of these works, or their characters. _

* * *

><p>Part 7: The Vision<p>

Dave stared at Miles. "You 'saw' him?" he repeated, utilizing air quotes. "What do you mean you 'saw' him? You've never met him."

Miles stiffened, avoiding their questioning gazes. A few weeks ago, admitting his ability to near strangers would have been his greatest fear. Things had changed since then (mainly that the visions were no longer his biggest secret), but his hands still felt clammy at the thought of telling anyone. "Well, it's...you see, I can..."

"You're a seer."

Miles's eyes darted to the warlock. He winced at the gaunt look Merlin was giving him, but he admitted, "The common term these days is 'psychic.'"

"You see the future?" Dave cried. "How long has this been going on?"

Miles snorted. "Geez, you make it sound like I'm having an affair." More seriously, he said, "I've been seeing flashes of the future for as long as I can remember. They've been more frequent recently, though. Along with the delightful headaches." He sighed, rubbing his throbbing temple.

Merlin helped the boy up and led him to the couch, letting him settle his head on the cushions. Merlin had experienced the pain of future-gazing, and it was enough to make him never wish it on anyone. To go through that all the time? He shuddered to think.

Dave fetched Miles a bag of ice (since he had thrown his only ice pack to the floor during his freak out). He handed it to Miles, and once the psychic was comfortable, Dave asked, "Are-are you sure that it was a vision, not just a-a hallucination from low blood sugar or something?"

Considering how hard it was for him to admit he had visions at all, he couldn't help but seethe at the accusation. He sat up, holding the ice to his head. "Look, I admit I don't know a lot about magic. It's not like I have a master to teach me," he said, with a pointed look at Dave. "But, I've had visions my _whole life, _so I think I know the difference between a vision and a hallucination, thank you." He leaned back. Miles would have thought someone who had been called crazy would understand.

Dave retreated a step. "Okay! Sheesh, sorry." He took a deep breath, then asked what was really on his mind. "You said you saw Balthazar. That he was in danger. So, what happened?"

Miles nodded, glad that Dave believed him. "He was – "

"Wait!" Merlin interrupted, suddenly tense.

The other two stared at him. "What?" Miles asked.

The warlock let out a shaky breath. "What if telling us causes the vision to happen? Or what you think you saw isn't what really happened?" Merlin glanced down. "I've seen terrible things come of that." Weeks ago, he'd glimpsed the future in the Crystal Caves, and in trying to stop what he _thought_ he saw from happening, he'd made something worse happen: Morgana had discovered that she had a right to the throne of Camelot. It was only a matter of time before she used that nugget of information to take action.

Miles scanned Merlin up and down. _'So he __does__ get visions.' _In many legends, Merlin was said to be a psychic/seer, but Miles was already questioning everything he knew about Merlin . "Look, I get that. It's not like I've never caused my visions to happen. But they're pretty straightforward, and it won't be long before the vision comes to pass. Trust me, we're going to want to act on this one."

"And by 'not too long,' you mean...?"

Miles shrugged. "It could be anywhere from a few minutes to a few days from now. Clocks and newspapers don't exactly tend to show up in my visions. My record has been two weeks, but this didn't feel like that kind of vision."

Merlin hesitated, but nodded to proceed. Miles had more experience seeing the future than he did. Maybe this vision would be helpful rather than harmful.

.

Miles turned to Dave. "So, Balthazar was cleaning up something when Dave appeared at the top of the stairs. Except, it turned out _not_ to be Dave, since the guy trapped Balthazar, and then his face sort of shifted into someone else's."

"What'd this guy look like?" Dave asked.

Miles skewed his eyes shut, trying to remember. "He was... blonde. And goth."

Dave groaned, knowing who it must be. "Seriously? That pretentious jerkwad was able to impersonate me?!"

Miles winced, the shout sending a twinge of pain through his cranium. "If it makes you feel any better, it wasn't a great impersonation. Balthazar caught on pretty quickly."

Dave smirked. "Hah!"

"Who is he?" Merlin asked.

"His name is Drake Stone, a Morganian sorcerer."

Miles recognized the name. "As in the TV magician who has his own _Magic: The Gathering_ card? He's evil?" Somehow, he was not that surprised.

Once his annoyance faded, Dave wondered how Drake had found Balthazar. "Can you describe where they were?"

Miles tried to remember. "It was... this round, stone room. There were wet papers all over the place... and... there was this weird etching in the floor. A circle with a bunch of symbols inside."

Dave felt queasy. "Oh _no_. Oh man, oh man, oh man!" He raked a hand through his hair, his stomach sinking. "The Morganians found my lab!"

Miles raised an eyebrow. "You have a lab?"

"I'm a physics major," Dave explained. He scratched the back of his head. "My experiments are a bit too dangerous for the student labs, so my professor called in a favor, hooked me up with this old subway turnaround. Then Balthazar turned it into a practice space for sorcery, since it was under the radar."

"Science and magic in the same place? That's ironic."

"According to Balthazar, they're the same thing."

Merlin chuckled. "I know someone who would disagree with that." Then again, said "someone" had let him use his infirmary to practice forbidden incantations, and had once been a sorcerer himself.

Dave sighed. "Anyway, the Morganians didn't know about it, so we kept the Grimhold there."

"If what Miles saw is true, then it won't be safe much longer." Merlin turned to Miles. "Did anything else happen?"

Miles nodded. "An older man came in, told Drake to look for the Grimhold. That's when I woke up."

Dave knew the older man must be Horvath, and that was bad news for Balthazar. Drake might be powerful enough to trap the old sorcerer, but he would never take him on alone. If Horvath was there, however, Balthazar could be in serious trouble.

"Well," Merlin said, clearing his throat. "As you said, it might be a few days yet."

Dave groaned, "No. It won't. If the lab was still wet from earlier, it's got to happen tonight."

"And something tells me a thousand-year-old sorcerer isn't gonna own a cell phone," Miles muttered.

"I still don't know what that is, but are you suggesting we go over and warn the man? Try to stop this from happening?" Merlin asked, doubtful.

Miles sighed. "No, we can't stop it from happening. Whether we like it or not, the vision will come to pass." He steeled himself, looking between them. "But the _outcome_, we can change. I didn't see the Morganians take the Grimhold, so we can go over there and keep it away from them."

Dave blanched. "Y-you want me to go back there?!"

"Isn't it your place?" Merlin asked.

"I – well, yes, but I can't go back there right now!"

"Why not?"

Dave cringed. He was tempted to lie to them; say he was feeling ill, or the subways were flooded, anything but what had actually happened. But Dave had tried to lie to his predecessor before and it had blown up in his face. He wasn't risking Merlin's wrath again, so, hesitant, he mumbled, "I may have... magically flooded my lab. And had a fight with Balthazar. And quit magic."

.

If they were not already seated, Miles and Merlin would have promptly dropped onto the couch. "You... you quit magic?" Merlin asked, in a whisper.

"Seriously?" Miles added. But as he said it, he realized it had been obvious all along. Soon after they'd met, Dave had said, _"I'm a sorcerer... Or at least, I was learning to be one." _"Was," as in past tense.

Merlin had practically breathed magic his whole life. In contrast, Miles had only embraced its existence, let alone that he had any, mere weeks before. Yet neither could imagine a life without it.

Merlin sat up. "But if you're supposed to defeat Morgana, you can't just quit."

"Yeah," Miles added, "that'd be like Harry Potter dropping out of Hogwarts and going back to live with the Dursleys!"

Dave's gaze hardened. "Did Harry Potter have a prophecy hanging over his head, a dragon who nearly turned him to bacon, a batty old sorcerer as a teacher, and a crazy powerful witch to beat?"

"Change 'witch' to 'wizard' and yeah, pretty much."

Dave let his mouth open and close a few times before glaring at Miles. "Well, he's fictional, that doesn't count."

"Too bad, sounds like someone I'd relate to," Merlin muttered. He crossed his arms, gaze sharply aimed towards Dave. "Is this why you didn't mention Balthazar before? You were afraid to face him again?"

Dave gaped. "No! I-I-I'm not _afraid _to face him! I'm mad at him."

"But you're the one who flooded your own lab," Miles chided.

Dave cried, "And he's the one who has made my life a living hell since I was ten!"

"Is this about that 'ten years in a magic urn' thing you mentioned before?"

Dave shook his head. "You don't want to know."

Miles leaned forward, as did Merlin. "No, actually, we do. And you kind of owe us for dragging us here in the first place."

.

Dave sighed, leaning against the edge of the kitchen table. He didn't want to tell this story. Like, at all. But how else could he make them understand? So, he began, "Ten years ago, I was on a field trip in the city."

Dave took a moment to fill Merlin in on what a field trip was, which lead to having to explain what a school was. Merlin was quite impressed that everyone had access to education in such a way.

Miles couldn't help thinking that if Merlin had experienced high school, he wouldn't be so impressed.

"Anyway," Dave continued, "This super important note blew out of my hands, and I ran after it." A note from Becky Barnes on whether she wanted to go out with him, to be precise. "Teacher was distracted, so she didn't notice right away."

"They took a bunch of ten-year-olds into New York City with only one teacher to supervise?" Miles remarked, skeptical.

Dave's eyes were drawn to the window. The view was obscured, but he could still make out the lights of the city. "It was before 9/11," he said in a low voice. "Things were different then."

Merlin almost asked what Dave meant, but his look and Miles's shiver changed his mind.

His gaze shifted away from the window. "So I ran and ran, and the note flew into this curio shop. And, stupid kid that I was, I went in. That was mistake number one." He bowed his head. "That was when I met Balthazar Blake."

"He was in the shop?" Merlin asked.

"He owned the shop," Dave said. "I guess even centuries-old sorcerers need to pay rent. Anyway, he creeped me out, shut the door on me when I tried to leave, and took out Mr. Dragon over here," he gestured to the ring, its emerald catching the light. "He told me, 'If it likes you, you can keep it.'" He shrugged. "I had no idea what that meant. If I had, I would have forced my way out, believe me. But I was ten, I was trapped, and..." he paused, not wanting to admit it. "...Maybe I was intrigued. _Maybe. _So I held out my hand and took the dragon. That was mistake number two." He gestured to the ring again. "I think you know what happened next."

Miles and Merlin shared a look. "What was mistake number three?" Merlin asked.

Dave glanced away, twiddling his thumbs innocently. "I may have... touched the Grimhold and let out Morgana's top sorcerer."

Their jaws dropped.

Dave scowled. "It's not my fault! It didn't exactly look like a prison for sorcerers. I have enough regret without you two adding to it."

"Why? What happened?" Merlin asked.

Dave bit his lip, the memory of fire, shattering glass, and flying swords making his stomach churn. So, he left it at this: "You remember the 'pulling a David Stutler' thing?"

Their eyes widened. "..._Oh."_

Dave squirmed. "Yeah. That's what happens when you get trapped in the middle of a magic duel, only for the proof to get sucked into a magic urn when you try to explain."

Miles swallowed. Dave's freak out suddenly made a _lot_ more sense.

Dave pushed himself into standing position. "And while Balthazar chilled there for ten years with his arch nemesis, I had to put my life back together. I changed schools, survived middle school, _and_ high school, _and_ therapy, got into NYU on scholarship." He started pacing, hands flailing. "And just as things were getting good again, he comes back! Yeah, he saves my life, but does he even ask, 'Hi Dave, how have you been?' No! He just expects me to start magic training where we left off, after ten years of people telling me that what I saw was a hallucination! He wasn't even the one who told me about being the Prime Merlinean! Oh no, the _bad guys _let me in on that one!"

"Dave, you're ranting again – "

But Dave was on a roll. "He has embarrassed me, thrown plasma bolts at me, scared me half to death - these are not the kind of things a nice teacher does, okay? And he keeps saying he believes in me and my abilities, but it isn't really _me _he cares about, is it? I'm not Dave to him. I'm just the stupid Prime Merlinean!" He glared at them. "Well, I'm sorry, I tried, but it's not me! I'm not going back there just to get roped into this again."

Miles glared. "Weren't _you_ the one who didn't want evil sorcerers taking over the world just fifteen minutes ago?"

Dave rolled his eyes. "That was different!"

Merlin stood up, his blue gaze cold. "So you're just going to let him die. Let Morgana be released and doom the world."

The anger visibly seeped out of Dave's body, causing him to sag. "I – no!" He sighed, staring down and sticking his hands in his sweatshirt pockets. "I don't want any of that. But even if I could go back there, it's not like I'd be of any use." He shrugged. "Believe me, Balthazar can handle those two, he doesn't… need me. If it wasn't for this ring, he wouldn't even want me." He pulled out a kitchen chair and sank onto it. He just wanted to crawl into bed and let this day be over.

Merlin's gaze softened. There were times he felt useless like that, those days when Arthur was at his worst or destiny really seemed to want to stick it to him. Kilgharrah had said that Dave's wish for understanding had brought them to this place and time. Perhaps he could help fulfill that. "Dave, I know this is difficult – "

Dave scoffed, "No, you don't."

"Pardon?"

Dave glared up at the warlock. "Do you even hear yourself? You're _Merlin._"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm aware that I'm _Merlin. _But I already told you, Dave, I'm not perfect."

"You're still the most powerful sorcerer ever!" He cried, flinging his arms wide. "You're still destined to help King Arthur bring about the Golden Age of Camelot! Me? I'm supposed to bring down an evil sorceress even _you_ couldn't defeat. Look at me!" He cried, pressing his hands to his chest. "I'm a nervous wreck with about as much magical ability as Neville Longbottom! Yes," he glanced at Miles, "I remember that much about Harry Potter."

Miles wanted to point out that Neville was only terrible in the early books because he was using his father's wand, turning out to be quite the badass by the end, but decided maybe now wasn't the best time.

"Look, I appreciate the effort," Dave continued, "but let's not kid ourselves here. You have no idea what this is like. Hell, it's your fault I'm in this mess." He sighed, resting his head in his hands.

Miles's eyes fixed Merlin with a "well-what-do-we-do-now" look.

Merlin's eyebrows returned an "I-have-no-idea" look back. Then he focused on the young apprentice, limp in his chair. He could see a lot of himself in his successor, from his build to his tendency to rant (Gaius still liked to rib him about his "I don't have time to sit around and do nothing" episode). Yet, in that moment, Merlin was struck by a resemblance to Arthur. How many times had he come in to his master's chambers to see Arthur seated in the same position, his eyes far away as a failure weighed on his mind. Dave, like Arthur, seemed stuck in the idea that he had to do something perfectly or he was useless at it, and adding a destiny to save the world on top of that was not good for Dave. Merlin's heart ached for both of them.

_'Destiny...'_

Merlin started, and realized he'd had this conversation before!

And he knew _exactly_ what to say.

* * *

><p><em>What? What is he going to say? You'll have to find out next time ;D<em>

_A lot of this chapter dealt with reiterating Dave's story, but I think seeing his perspective is important here. In the film, we don't get that deeply into his issues, and seeing Becky at the top of the Chrysler Building somehow re-engages him to fight without really saying why. I wanted to expand on that. It's a big reason for why I started this story in the first place, and you'll see more of that next chapter when Merlin responds._

_Dave (and to an extent, Arthur) have what I'd like to refer to as a "fixed mindset." No joke, I was reading this book called "Mindset" by Carol Dweck for a psychology class I took my junior year, and as I was reading about this term and rewatching "Sorcerer's Apprentice," I realized - this term fits Dave to T! It really gave me insight into his character. I'll go into that a bit more next chapter, but basically Dave, at his core, thinks his abilities are fixed - for physics, for magic, for connecting with people. He thinks he has to be naturally good at something from the offset or he'll never be any good. The whole Arcana Cabana thing really hurt the way he looks at himself, and I hope that came across here. _

_I also hope I've shed a little more light on Miles with the visions and why he's so secretive. I know some people were saying they weren't sure what to make of him. _

_I really wanted to mention the parallels to Harry Potter, partially I'm an unapologetic fangirl (XD) but also partially to call out the "Chosen One" parallels with Harry, Dave, and Merlin. Loyal follower AuroraKnight's fanfic "More Like Two Different Coins" and its prequel "How Harry Became Merlin" does a lot more justice to this by making Harry the reincarnation of Merlin, but I really wanted to poke fun at the similar uses of the trope as well as Dave and Merlin's lack of knowledge of the series._

_Hope you liked it! Please review and vote in the poll! Happy reading!_

_~*Astraea*_


	9. Part 8: The Sorcerer

_Author's Note: Welcome back to "A Mingling of Magics"! In this chapter, Merlin tells his story, Dave and Miles get their minds blown, and we finally see Balthazar Blake in action! Sit back, relax, and enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, The Sorcerer's Apprentice, or Avalon High. I especially don't own the events detailed by Merlin, which are lifted from "The Dragon's Call", or the dialogue in the ending scene, as that is lifted directly from The Sorcerer's Apprentice film._

* * *

><p>Part 8: The Sorcerer<p>

Merlin sat down, his gaze fixed on the college student, who stared down at the floor. Taking a moment to compose himself, he began, "My destiny must sound incredible to you. I can't blame you, being responsible for an age of peace and understanding sounds _much_ less intimidating than being responsible for the safety of the entire world." A small smile touched his lips. "If I'm being honest, my future with Arthur has often been the thing that kept me going when things seemed hopeless." Then, the smile fell away. He shifted forward, prompting Dave to look up at him. "If there's one thing I know, however, it's that destinies, no matter what they are... are troublesome things." A part of him wanted to smirk, thinking of when he'd told Arthur the same thing. He glanced between Dave and Miles. "Exactly how much do you know about Camelot before King Arthur?"

"Different stories tell it different ways," Miles said. "The best known version says Arthur was hidden away right after his birth, but his father, King Uther, died soon after. The kingdom fell into despair with seemingly no heir to the throne."

Merlin chuckled darkly. "There are a lot of people who would have been happier at that turn of events."

"What do you mean?"

Merlin leaned back against the couch with a long sigh. Then, he wove for the boys the story of the Camelot he knew, the land where magic was banned under King Uther's delusions of its inherent wickedness. Then he told of the boy born of magic who, upon entering the gates of Camelot, saw someone like himself beheaded for public spectacle, leaving his mother in despair. The boy who discovered he, with his natural mastery, ought to be impossible.

He folded his hands in his lap, his eyes distant. "I felt lost. I thought I might be... a monster," Merlin concluded softly. "My magic is as natural to me as breathing, but what was the point if I couldn't use it?" Merlin let out a shaky breath. For all the trouble and heartache he'd had since coming to Camelot, he wouldn't go back to those early days for anything.

The boys were transfixed by the tale, so that when Merlin remained silent for more than ten seconds, Dave had to ask, "Then what?"

Merlin half-smiled. "You could say I made a friend, although we... well, we didn't exactly get along at first. Actually, he was a complete ass." He blinked. "That does mean the same thing now as it does in my time, right?"

"Oh yeah," Dave said, nodding.

Merlin continued, "He was a noble, you see, making his servant run around like a trained dog for target practice, and then laughing at him. I stood up to him, and he got me locked in the stocks." Merlin rolled his eyes. "The next day, we got into an actual fight that almost landed me in the dungeon, even though _he_ was the one with the mace."

"Wow, the Dark Ages really were like high school," Miles muttered. He would have to let Allie know.

"As you can imagine," Merlin continued, "I wanted as little to do with this idiot as possible. But, fate had other plans. And it told me those plans in the form of a dragon."

Dave's eyes lit up as he tapped his ring. "This dragon?"

Miles suddenly realized. "That ban on magic included the dragons too, didn't it?"

Merlin's lips tightened in a thin line. "Kilgharrah was the only dragon kept alive after the Great Purge. He was captured and trapped under the castle, to make an example of King Uther's might."

Dave felt as if he'd been shoved in the chest, the ring cold on his finger. "Then how'd you find him?"

"I heard his voice in my mind, calling for me," Merlin said, "until I couldn't ignore it any longer." He shrugged. "When I found myself in this cavern under the castle with a dragon three times the size of this room, I didn't know what to expect. I certainly didn't expect him to tell me that I was meant protect the man who would bring peace and magic to the land of Albion." Merlin half-smiled. "Problem was, it was the same man I previously called an ass."

Miles almost knew what was coming, but he didn't want to hear it. "You're not saying this guy was..." He shook his head. "I mean you _can't_ mean..."

"That Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King, was a bully and the son of the man who banned magic?" The smirk faded from the warlock's face. "You can understand how I felt."

Miles swayed like he'd been cracked over the head with a glass bottle.

Dave held up his hands. "No, no, that can't be right. This guy sounds the same age as you."

Merlin frowned. "Well, Arthur _is_ the same age as me. Actually, he's nearly four years older."

Dave let that sink in. "That's... completely messed up."

"Yeah, we passed 'messed up' about five exits back," Miles remarked.

"Why is our age a big deal?" Merlin asked.

"You're supposed to be the older one, for one thing!" Dave cried. "Like, with the long white beard and all that!"

Miles nodded vigorously.

Merlin unconsciously stroked his chin, thinking of the Dragoon disguise. The old man with the long white beard _was_ supposed to be his 80-year-old self, but how did that version become the famous one? "Well, obviously someone made a mistake, but that's not important right now."

Merlin continued with his story, how he had been dead set against the idea of a destiny entwined with Arthur's. But at the royal feast the next night, he had found that resolve challenged, as he'd witnessed a sorceress in disguise bewitch the guests with a song that put them in a deep slumber. Merlin had sensed the tremor of magic in the song and covered his ears before he could be ensnared, but his caretaker and new friend, Gwen, were. Merlin had to stop the spell, so he had reached out with his magic and dropped the chandelier on her, revealing the imposter to be the bereaved mother.

And then, she'd thrown her dagger at Arthur.

Merlin paused as the moment played before his eyes. "Something just... clicked inside me," he recalled in a low voice. "It was like everything that had mattered to me before faded away." He shook his head. He had never truly been able to articulate the sensation before. "It didn't matter what Arthur or his father had done. It didn't matter that I felt horrible for the woman. It didn't even matter that I could get killed. All I knew was I could save him. I had to." A small smile played on his lips as his magic trilled inside him. "For the first time in my life, I felt whole." He frowned. "Of course, that split second of happiness was crushed a second later when I was made Arthur's manservant."

"...His what?!" Dave and Miles exclaimed.

Merlin chuckled. "Uther thought I ought to be rewarded for saving his son's life, and what greater reward than serving his royal pratness?" he said mockingly. "At the time I was horrified; now I just find it amusing."

"Yeah, but you said you're his friend, not his servant," Miles cried.

"Plus, he sounds like a terrible person," Dave added.

"Well I wouldn't be his friend if I wasn't his servant first," Merlin said to Miles. "It was really the only way I could get to know him, considering he's a prince. Don't forget, if I hadn't picked that fight with him, he would never have given me a passing glance." Then he looked down at his hands. "Look, I'm not going to say he magically changed overnight. Arthur can still be condescending, very overbearing, terribly thick, even cruel at times. And I still call him out on that." He looked Dave in the eye. "But he has his own battles to fight. With a father like his, and the future of the whole kingdom resting on his shoulders, he feels he cannot show even the slightest weakness, or he will let everyone down."

Dave's lip curled. That sounded familiar.

Merlin rose from his seat, standing tall by the window. "With guidance and the chance to act on his own principles, Arthur is a good man, and a good friend. In time, he will be a great king, and I intend to be at his side when that happens." His eyes seemed to glint like fire. "I've realized that I may be acting on a destiny I never wanted, but it is my choice to do so. For all their faults, Arthur is my brother, and Camelot is my home." He put a hand to his chest. "And they're worth fighting for."

Dave's eyes narrowed. "What are you trying to say?"

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "You tell me."

Dave wagged his finger at Merlin. "No, no, no, I see what you're trying to do. You're trying to make me feel guilty. You're just like Balthazar, saying I should give up my life and my friends to serve the higher cause."

Merlin folded his arms, eyes stern. "No. I'm trying to say that Balthazar, like Arthur, may seem harsh, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care about you, or that he doesn't need you. He's carrying as big a burden as you, and he's had to carry it for centuries." He sighed. "I think he's more afraid of failing you than you are of failing him."

Dave jolted. "I told you, I-I-I'm not – " He swallowed, his hands shaking. "Okay, yes, I don't want to face him again. But I...I didn't..." His voice broke.

Merlin placed his hands on Dave's shoulders. "I know you never asked for this. And I know you think you can't protect anyone. I've felt that way about my destiny. But that sorceress attacked Arthur and the kingdom because she was trying to hurt the king. So it is with all who hurt others. However small or well-intentioned their plans, there will always be innocents hurt." A dark look crossed the young warlock's face. "You think if you face Morgana, she'll kill you and that will be it. But if I know Morgana, she might not kill you at all – she might try to turn you to her side first."

Dave gaped. He hadn't even thought of that possibility.

"But if you allow Morgana to complete this spell?" His gaze darkened. "It will kill everyone you care about. If they don't have magic, they are nothing to her." Merlin's voice shook at those words, thinking of the old Morgana who would never have done such things.

Dave clenched his eyes shut. He thought of his mother in their apartment in Brooklyn. He thought of Bennet, his lab buddies, his few high school friends. He thought of Becky, and her smile, and her faith in him.

"I'm not trying to say this to make you feel bad," Merlin said softly. "But if you do nothing, there will be a cost." He tapped the ring. "You have been given the power to stop her, just as I was given the power to save Arthur. Respect that power. Use it for good."

Dave sighed. "I told you, I'm not powerful. "

Merlin smirked. "Dave, I don't think a subpar sorcerer could have flooded his own lab. That denotes a lack of concentration, not a lack of power."

"I was concentrating!"

"For the full duration of the spell?"

Dave stopped. Actually, he'd left the room to shower, at which point the spell had gotten out of control. Much as he hated to admit it, perhaps Merlin was right. But there was one thing still bothering him. He was afraid to say it aloud, but the words burst from his lips before he could stop: "What if I fail?"

Merlin became quiet, looking at the ground. "Dave... I won't lie," he said slowly. "There are times I have... failed. Or when the price of success meant losing someone." He paused, ghostly faces rising to the front of of his consciousness. "I watched an old friend die because I wasn't fast enough. I lost a girl I wanted to spend the rest of my life with because I couldn't get to her in time. I even..." He swallowed hard. "...I even lost my own father. And I barely got to know him." He took a moment to collect himself, then said, "But we can't let fear or past failure define us, or we could lose the future." He gripped Dave's shoulders, his eyes bright. "I hope you never go through that kind of loss. But, whatever happens, you honor all who believed in you and who still believe in you, by fighting until the end."

Dave stared at Merlin, at the shadows under his eyes, the clenched jaw, the creased brow. Suddenly, he didn't seem like _Merlin,_ the sorcerer, the prodigy, his ancestor. He was just a man burdened with a destiny, determined to make sure it all turned out for the best.

"Dave, I trust in your destiny." Merlin stood and took a step back. "The question is, do you?"

The lights flickered as all eyes in the room gazed at the Prime Merlinean (even Tank, at the foot of his master's chair, glanced up with a whine). Dave sat silent, his mind churning. He stared at the dragon ring. He thought of Balthazar. He thought of Becky. Then he looked up at Merlin.

*.*.*.*

Balthazar Blake, Sorcerer of the 777th Degree, had been in some sticky situations before. He'd been trapped in an urn for ten years, along with mirrors, monsoons, and deep pits full of poisonous snakes. He'd survived the Salem Witch Trials, the French Revolution, even JFK Airport on the day the Beatles landed in America (he still heard the high-pitched screams in his nightmares, sometimes).

But since he was trapped, the Merlineans' one last hope had given up, and his long-time nemesis now held the key to the world's destruction in his hand, Balthazar would have to say the situation was... not good.

"It's lighter than I remember," Maxim Horvath remarked, a sneer at the edge of his lips as he tested the nesting doll/prison in his hand. He glanced up at Balthazar, black eyes glittering in triumph.

Balthazar had to try, just one more time, to reach out for his former friend. "We once fought together, Maxim," he said in a low voice.

The Morganian's gaze hardened, his humor falling away. "A lot's happened since those days."

Understatement of the millenium. "This isn't about that!" he pleaded.

"Oh yes, Balthazar," Maxim snarled, his fingers wound tight around his cane. "It's _always_ been about that. Veronica chose you, instead of me. The great Balthazar Blake!" he spat. "My best friend."

Balthazar's eyes narrowed. What he wanted to say was, _'Key words there, Max:"Veronica chose." Not you or me. All I did was what you should have done – tried to make her happy. Instead, you got her trapped. And Merlin killed.'_ But, he had to let Maxim have his moment.

"Well," Horvath growled, taking a few step back, "I'm going to release Morgana... let you watch your world crumble into nothing!" He turned his back on his prey.

But what Horvath had forgotten was that if Balthazar Blake was anything, he was stubborn. And the only reason the metal bands still held him to that plate was because he had let them.

With a wrist twist and a tug, the flash-frozen metal shattered around his right wrist. Horvath swivelled around just in time to see Balthazar blast him across the floor with a plasma bolt. He pulled himself loose and landed easily, but Horvath's apprentice was quick to shoot back at Balthazar, pushing him into the plate so hard he fell to the floor, ears ringing. He was so focused on knocking the apprentice back that he didn't see Horvath recover. He didn't see him rise from the ground, or flick his coat open. But he did see the wave of Horvath's cane that sent a barrage of knives flying right towards his head. Balthazar, on reflex, turned his cheek, muscles tightened and eyes clenched shut in preparation of …

Nothing?

He opened his eyes, saw the knives stopped in the air, and looked up.

David Stutler stood at the top of the landing, one hand clenched around the banister as as he used the other to aim his time-freeze spell at the knives, the dragon ring shining bright green. He was trembling from the effort of the spell, but that didn't matter. For Dave, nothing else mattered in this moment except saving his master.

His _friend._

The knives dropped and clattered to the ground as Balthazar breathed a sigh of relief. Horvath and Drake dashed away as Dave rushed down the stairs and pulled his master to his feet.

"Nice catch," Balthazar said, breathless. What he meant to say was, _'Thank you. And did you get a lot better all of a sudden?'_

"Figured I owed you one," Dave replied with a shrug, eyes pleading,_ 'I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?'_

"They got the doll." Which meant,_ 'Of course I do. But, are you in for the long haul?'_

Dave raised his chin. "Let's get it back."

As the master and apprentice (and dog, as Tank trailed after his master) raced out to chase after the Morganians, Miles and Merlin watched from the shadows. Merlin beamed. "I knew he had it in him."

* * *

><p><em>Welp, that's Part 8! I hope Merlin's storytelling was in character - he doesn't often get a chance to tell his side of things, does he? We don't get to hear a lot from Miles this time around, but Dave needing to make this decision kind of took the forefront. We'll see more of him and Merlin next chapter.<em>

_I've started work on Part 9, hoping to get that up by the end of this month in time for Halloween (also around the time I imagine the events of the story take place, coincidentally... or not-so-coincidentally XD ). Miles will learn a bit more about Merlin and Arthur, Merlin and will learn a bit more about his future, including meeting his future apprentice (which I know some of you are looking forward to, haha)_

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed and subscribed last chapter, and to everyone still following! I'd love to hear what you think, so please PM and review! Happy October!_

_~ *Astraea*_


	10. Part 9: Story Time

_A/N: So, clearly it's not Halloween. :/ But I am back with an extra-long chapter!_

_This chapter expands on the last chapter in talking about the relationship between Arthur and Merlin, as well as addressing Miles's side of the story. This is also where we start to diverge from the original Sorcerer's Apprentice into AU as (drum roll please) Balthazar and Merlin finally come face to face! I know a lot of you have been waiting for that :)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, Sorcerer's Apprentice, or Avalon High. I especially don't own any of Merlin's anecdotes, the dialogue from Miles's flashback, or Balthazar's conversation about Veronica._

* * *

><p><strong>Part 9: Story Time<strong>

When the last echoes of footsteps faded, Miles and Merlin crept out from their hiding place.

"I feel bad not going with them," Merlin muttered.

Miles gave him a half-lidded glare. "Did _you_ want to explain to your apprentice how it is you came back from the dead?" he drawled.

Merlin squirmed. "...No."

"Well, there you go then."

So slowly they made their way down the catwalk towards the staircase, getting a good look at the underground lab for the first time. It was a cavernous space, framed by tall archways of parchment-colored brick. The three poles wrapped in copper wire that stood between the archways popped out immediately – Miles, open-mouthed, recognized them as tesla coils. Other bits of Dave's work were strewn along the peripheries of the room, in machine parts, a generator, a wire plate, loose papers, crates, half-melted candles, and mismatched chairs. But the center of the room was completely clear, revealing a set of tracks that ran through the middle of the room, remnants of its past as a subway turnaround.

"You wouldn't know this place was flooded hours ago," Miles commented, though upon sniffing the air he caught a hint of lemon cleaning fluid.

Merlin stretched his arms as they reached the landing, feeling his body, his mind, and even his magic unwind. He felt comfortable here, more than he had in the apartment. He supposed it was because they stood underground now, rooted in the earth, and the space buzzed with multiple energies that hummed in tune with his own. His magic still felt on edge, but the little relief was not unappreciated.

Miles smiled, rolling his shoulders as he took in the same vibe. "Yeah, it's good to relax after all we just went through. Were you overwhelmed out there?" Though Miles and Dave had shuddered at the thought of bringing the medieval warlock through Manhattan, Merlin had insisted on coming with them. And he was quite persuasive.

"This eyewear helped," Merlin replied, unclipping the sunglasses from the front of his shirt and handing them to Miles. "But, I did _not_ like riding in that sticky, lurching contraption."

"You mean the taxi?" Miles asked, suppressing a laugh. He hadn't loved the ride either, but at least he'd known what to expect.

Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose, his stomach churning at the memory of the ride. "All that noise and light, how does anyone sleep in this city?"

"Pills." Miles wrinkled his nose as he pocketed the glasses. "I was more stunned by the smells!"

"Really? I didn't notice anything."

Miles recalled a lesson on the sewage system in Camelot from his European History class. He shuddered. "Yeah, I guess you wouldn't."

As Merlin stepped towards the center, he felt something under his feet. But not a physical something. He looked down to see the pattern carved in the stone floor – a large circle encasing six smaller circles, each inscribed with a symbol. "Hullo," he murmured, bending down. "What have we here?" As his fingers grazed the circle, his magic suddenly flowed out of him – not an uncontrolled surge, as before, but gentle and easy flowing, like water. He almost didn't notice the circle itself burst into flames.

But Miles did. Even as he felt the shift of magic moments before, the flames caused him to jump back, grabbing the pen in his pocket. But after the initial shock wore off, he pocketed it again, staring in awe. "_Whoa__._"

"You said it," Merlin said softly, drawing himself upright. He stepped into the circle, deftly moving between the smaller circles into the center before turning towards Miles. "I think it's some kind of focus for magic."

"Really?"

"Yeah." He stared down at his hands. "My magic doesn't feel so unstable anymore."

Miles tilted his head. "Huh." An already curious person (it was why he was such a good student), the added inkling that he _should_ know what the circle did made his urge to do research even stronger. Glancing around, Miles spotted a large book set haphazardly on the worktable, its brown leather embossed with gold. _'The book from my vision!'_ he realized. He darted towards it and pulled it open, a waft of a sweet, musty smell emitting from the yellowed pages. "Tell me there's an index in this thing," he muttered, handling the pages carefully as he flipped towards the back.

"What are you doing?" Merlin called as he tentatively touched a smaller circle with his foot. It promptly lit with unnaturally yellow flames.

Miles glanced over his shoulder. "I want to find out what it is. This seems to be their magic compendium, so if the information is anywhere, it's in here."

Merlin smiled as he tapped another circle with his foot, which burned a rich magenta. "Amazing how often it comes down to having the right books." Watching another circle blaze deep red, he continued, "I can't begin to tell you how many times saving Camelot just meant a whole lot of _reading_. I've woken up with books plastered to my face."

Miles scoffed. "That sounds like a typical night for me. But you're right. If it wasn't for a book, I wouldn't know anything about magic." He sighed. "That, and a few people I know would be hurting pretty badly right now."

Merlin promptly turned from the circle of purple flames. "What do you mean?"

Miles paused. Somehow, it had slipped his mind just who he'd been talking to. "It's nothing," he mumbled, hunching over the book.

Now Merlin scoffed. "Come on, I've aired my tragic past." More seriously, he said, "I'm guessing there's not a whole lot of people you can talk to about this, either. I know I can't. Nor can Dave. Venting might do you some good."

The honors student bit his lip, ignoring the anxiety coursing through his veins. "Let me find this first."

Merlin's perception drifted back to the circle, tapping into the magic he was sensing. "Whatever it is, the charm to make it is immensely intricate, but quite brilliant. I wonder who came up with this?"

Miles paused, finally resting on a page. "Actually... _you_ did."

Merlin stared up at him, mouth agape. "You're joking."

Cradling the book in his arms, Miles turned to him. "No, seriously!" he said. "It says right here, it's called the Merlin Circle! Helps fledgling sorcerers learn to harness magic."

Merlin sped towards him, the flames dissipating as he exited the circle. Peering over Miles's shoulder, his eyes widened. "That's my name! In a book!"

"Your name's in a lot more books than this," Miles replied. "Believe me."

"Well, it's the first time _I've_ ever seen it," Merlin countered. He reached over and turned a few pages. "I'd never even seen a real book before I came to Camelot." He sighed. "Boy, when Dave said I founded a whole order of magic, he wasn't exaggerating."

"Which you wouldn't expect from him," Miles added.

"I wonder..." Merlin murmured, as he flipped a few more pages. Then he stopped, and stared.

A full-body, watercolor portrait of his Dragoon persona had a page all to itself. However, instead of Gaius's hand-me-downs, the figure wore majestic dark blue robes with white trim, a staff raised above his head as lightning pierced the sky behind him. The caption beneath read, "Merlin Emrys: Founder of the Merlinean Order, Court Sorcerer of Camelot."

"Nice portrait," Miles remarked. He peered at Merlin out the corner of his eye. "You okay?"

Merlin took a deep breath, hands pressed to the table. "Yes, fine, just... it's one thing to hear about a great destiny; it's another thing to see it in front of you."

Miles nodded, staring at the picture again. "Yeah. I get that."

Merlin traced his finger over the caption, a smile on the edge of his lips. "I was starting to believe I would never see these words."

"Why?" Miles asked. "I thought it was your destiny to bring magic back to Camelot?"

"Easier said than done," Merlin scoffed. "Even if the laws against magic are lifted, I figured I would be better off staying in the shadows. That way, Arthur would never know that I..." Merlin swallowed, and looked away from the image of the familiar stranger. "Well, clearly I was mistaken," he mumbled. "Not that I'll remember once I'm back in my own time."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

He exhaled. "I honestly don't know."

A question burned on the tip of the student's tongue, but he hesitated. Now that the Once and Future King had been brought up again, it seemed appropriate, but... it was a particularly sensitive question. Then again, when else would he have the opportunity? "So, I was wondering," he began, leaning against the table. "You and Arthur..."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "What about me and Arthur?"

"Well how much does he know about... about you? How much have you told him?"

Merlin feigned a thoughtful look. "Oh let's see, I think it went something like this: 'Hey Arthur, what would you say if I told you I've been doing magic behind your back since the day we met?' 'Well, Merlin, I would probably turn you over to my father and watch you burn to death. Now polish my armor and stop talking nonsense.'" Merlin rolled his eyes.

Miles cringed. Boy, did that sound like something Miles himself would say. "Does he really agree with his father that much?" he asked softly.

Suddenly, the warlock looked much older than his years, his eyes distant. No, not distant – they were _tired._

He paused, then shut the book and looked straight at Miles. "I wouldn't have stood by him this long if he did." He placed the book back on the table. "But as I said, it has not been easy." He drummed his fingers on the table. "I've seen him consider that his father could be wrong. That magic could be good, or at least not always harmful."

"But?"

Merlin stopped drumming. How could he possibly explain the years of secret plots, maniacal sorcerers, and overall complications that played a part in his friendship with Arthur (not to mention everyone else he knew)?

Then, it came to him.

Merlin gave a long exhale, then began: "A little over a year ago, a sorceress told Arthur she could summon the spirit of his mother."

Miles's eyes widened as he remembered what Merlin had told them earlier. "Who died giving birth to him, which started the Purge."

Merlin nodded. "He actually started to believe that magic could be used for good. I think that's what she wanted. But it wasn't all she wanted." Merlin lowered his head. "To this day, I don't know if that really was Arthur's mother, or if Morgause manipulated it somehow. But the woman conjured before us told Arthur that his mother's death was his father's fault. That he willingly sacrificed her in order to get a son by magic. Arthur was so enraged, I found him with his sword pointed at his father's throat." Merlin's knuckles, gripping the edge of the table, had turned white.

After a long moment, Miles had to ask: "But Uther, he didn't. Did he?"

Merlin gazed at the ceiling. "Arthur _was_ born of magic and Igraine's life was taken in order to keep the balance in check, that is true enough. But..." He pursed his lips. "Uther Pendragon may be a lot of things, but he loved his wife. Maybe too much." Shifting, he cleared his throat. "The only way I could convince Arthur not to murder his own father was to tell him it was all a lie. Even the fact that he was born of magic. In doing so, I made it his enemy once again." He looked at Miles. "And that is only one of a thousand reasons why I haven't told Arthur yet."

Miles paused, lowering his eyes. "You must have wondered what it would be like, though. If he knew."

"Of course I have, hundreds of times. I've even dropped hints. But it's not the right time."

Miles fixed him with a steady look. "You really think he'd tell his father?"

"I... don't know."

He thought of Allie. "But he's your friend, right?" he said in a low voice.

Merlin shook his head. "That only makes it worse. Arthur values loyalty and honesty in his friends. If he knew about my magic, let alone everything else I've been keeping from him, he'd feel betrayed. Look what he almost did to Uther."

"Yeah, but with you it's different," Miles argued. "You've been protecting him ever since the day you met. Even if he reacts badly at first, he'll come around. I mean, he'll _have_ to if this," he gestured to the book, "is any indication."

Merlin squirmed at the thought. "Maybe. Truth is, I'm not so concerned with what happens to me anymore. I don't want to, but I'll deal with it when the time comes. I'm more afraid of what will happen to him – to us – when he finds out."

Miles crossed his arms. "What do you mean?"

Merlin paused, then turned to reopen the book to his portrait. "This man?" he said, pointing at the picture. "You wouldn't call him an idiotic servant. This is a man with the power to bend wills, to twist the very laws of nature." He looked back at Miles. "But that's not how Arthur sees me." He shuffled his feet, hunching his shoulders. "It's not... a _lie,_ exactly. I play up any foolishness because that's what Arthur's comfortable with. He takes himself so seriously, he needs someone to lighten his load. Someone who can mock him when he deserves it, but who will stand by him no matter what." He sat down on the floor, curling his knees into his chest. "Once I tell him, that will change. He'll have a terrible choice – his friend or his father. And he'll never trust me the same way again." As Miles sat on the floor beside him, his mind drifted back to his encounter with Cornelius Sigan. "A sorcerer once tempted me with promises of greatness and respect. That with him, I wouldn't have to hide my magic, and Arthur would know me for who I am. But he would also fear me." Merlin's eyes darkened. "I _don't want that_. I'd rather clean his armor for the rest of my life than see him afraid of me."

"Yeah... I definitely get that," Miles said, solemn. "But, maybe you could make him less afraid."

Merlin let his head rest against the edge of the table. "Believe me, I'd love to. But it's like..." He trailed off, trying to think how to describe it. Then, he had a better idea.

The warlock whispered an incantation into the palm of his hand, then unfurled his fingers to show the flames crackling on his palm. Miles gasped, then closed his mouth, flushing red. Merlin, eyes fading from gold to blue, chuckled gently, then glanced at the fire. "Fire, like magic, isn't always something to be feared. It can give life as much as take it, inspire awe as much as fear. But when you know something can hurt you, you'll always worry that it will." He glanced at Miles. "Even you and Dave do that, and you're sorcerers yourselves."

Miles shrank from the warlock's gaze. "Sorry."

Merlin gave a tremulous smile. "I don't blame you. But it proves my point." With a rueful look, he closed his fist to extinguish the flame. "As much as I wish things were different between Arthur and me, I'm too afraid to risk losing what we have. Arthur will one day accept magic in his kingdom. If I didn't know it before, I know it now." He clenched his eyes shut. "But I'm not sure he'll ever truly accept mine, no matter what that book says."

Miles sighed. He didn't know how to properly gestate all of that. So much of it made sense. He just wished it didn't.

Trying to diffuse the somber mood, Merlin wryly said, "Any particular reason you're asking me all these personal questions?"

Miles tensed. Still, he supposed he could tell him something. After all, Merlin was right – who else did he have to tell? "I guess the best way to put it is, I want to understand."

"Understand?"

Miles shrugged. "Understand why the Arthur you know is so different from the one I know... from the legends, that is. And also..." He trailed off, feeling a lump in his throat. But he curled his fingers into fists. If Merlin and Dave could do this, so could he. "You said you wanted my story. Really, it's not so different from yours," he began in a low voice, lacing his fingers together. "I was born with a gift that I had to hide for as long as I could remember. My mom had to raise me mostly on her own, though her parents and my dad's parents did what they could, and she was so afraid that I would be taken away from her if too many people knew. Between that and my intelligence, I thought it was better to keep to myself. I committed myself fully to schoolwork, and read anything I could get my hands on."

"Like Harry Potter?"

A big smile lit up his face. "Exactly! Books like that were pretty much my best friends. In books, it's okay to be smart. It's okay to be different." Then, Merlin watched the smile falter. "But, I didn't have any _real_ friends. I made enough acquaintances to get by, avoided the bullies as best I could. But I never let anyone in."

Merlin hummed. His own childhood had been rather lonesome, though at least he'd had Will.

"When I got to high school," Miles continued, "things got harder."

"Why?"

Miles fixed him with a look. "Let me put it this way: you think _your_ time is a period of ignorance, suffering, and humiliation? High school is basically the same thing, only with moody 14- to 18-year-olds crammed with overworked teachers in a single building."

Merlin grimaced. "That sounds... kind of awful."

The honors student sighed. "You have no idea." He leaned back on his hands. "Still, I worked hard and dreamed of the day I could leave for college. And I was determined to do it alone." A small smile tugged at the edge of his lips. "Then, about a month ago, Allie Pennington showed up and insisted on being my friend. We were assigned for a project together, so I couldn't stay away from her completely." He shook his head, amused. "The harder I tried to push her away, the more she sought me out. She saw my tactics for what they were – weak defenses, insecurities. She even got me to go to a jock party, which I swore I would never do!"

"Jock party?"

"Jocks are basically like knights, only without the chainmail."

Merlin wrinkled his nose. "Ah." Then, he grinned. "Still, I like this girl. Reminds me a bit of me with Arthur."

Miles blinked. "That's...ironic. Actually, I see Allie as similar to Arthur in a lot of ways. She can be stubborn, proud, overbearing when she thinks she's right," he drawled, rolling his eyes. Then he sobered. "But in the end, she's incredibly brave, and loyal, and fair. And a really good friend."

Merlin smiled. It did sound a lot like Arthur.

"Anyway," Miles continued, "as much as I grew to like her company, there was a problem. The more she hung around me, the more she noticed when I had visions around her, or when I knew something I shouldn't." He ran a hand through his hair. "Aaaand it didn't help that I was really bad at covering it up." He cleared his throat. "But, I clung to my secret nonetheless. So one night, I went over to her house because I had a vision that she was going to need my help. And this time, she didn't accept my excuse..."

*.*.*.*.*.*

_"You need help." That was all he said as he parked his bike and unclipped his helmet. He was usually more prepared, but this vision hadn't been as trivial as a loose shoelace or a stubbed toe. And something deep in his bones told him she needed to know tonight, so he'd hopped on his bike without another thought._

_He regretted that now as Allie rose from the deck chair. "How do you know I need help?" she asked coolly._

_"I just know, okay?" he replied as he placed his helmet on the chair. "Isn't that enough?"_

_She set her jaw. "No."_

_He jolted upright._

_"Actually, it's not enough."_

_Miles stared at her, feeling as though his insides had shrivelled up. She couldn't have caught on... could she? She wasn't nearly clever enough to put it together._

_But, oh, she had. She ticked off every single time he'd had a vision around her, each causing the knot in his stomach to tighten. She had even noticed the one at the football game! Jaw clenched, he glanced away to hide the tension that spread like prickles of heat across his skin._

_And then came the moment Miles had been dreading: Allie shrugged and said, almost teasing, "What are you, psychic or something?"_

_Miles felt as though he'd been hit by a bodybind hex. He even wanted to hit the floor, but somehow he stood. It seemed like such a silly little word, that denoted overdramatic ladies in shawls looking into crystal balls. But to Miles, "psychic" made him different. "Psychic" made him a freak. He should have called the idea ridiculous, but what slipped out was: "Don'tsaythatword,Allie."_

_She blinked, head tilted to the side. Then her eyes flared wide as she drew in a small breath, as if to say, "Oh." Miles held his breath, waiting for her to light into him. But, instead, she regained her composure and leaned towards him. "It's okay, Miles," she said softly, looking him straight in the eyes. "You can tell me."_

_He should be panicking, but all he felt was dull, aching numbness. "No, I can't. I can't tell anyone."_

_"I'm not just anyone!" Allie replied, stepping towards him. "I am your friend. If you tell me something, no matter what it is, I'm going to be there for you." She sent him half a smile. "Because that's what friends do."_

_Her voice exuded a gentle kindness. He wanted to believe her. But once he told her, he could never go back. In essence, he would be putting his life in the hands of a girl he'd known for a week. Yet the way he'd eased into a friendship with her, it felt as though they'd known each other for years already. And she was willing to take on his secret. "It's just..." He took a deep breath. "I'm already enough of a nerd, Allie, the last thing I need is something else making me different." _'Are you sure you can handle that?'

_She pursed her lips, trying to think of how to respond. Then she smiled wider. "Sometimes being different is what makes us great."_

_A weight like a boulder lifted from his chest._

_After a moment, he finally returned her smile. "Okay."_

_*.*.*.*.*.*.*_

"So, she accepted it?" Merlin wondered. "Just like that?"

Miles grinned. "Yeah. Even after magic was added to my weirdness, she was supportive. And she wasn't the only one. Will, Allie's boyfriend – beloved, that is – and his stepbrother, Marco, both found out, in... slightly more complicated ways, about what I can do. And they all took it in stride. It's..." His expression softened. "It's more than I could have hoped for."

Merlin narrowed his eyes. "But?"

The smile faded. "I don't know. I mean, it's only been a month since all this happened, maybe I'm expecting too much of myself." He rested his head in hands. "These guys have proven they accept me and my magic. I trust them with my life, but..." He swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. "I can't help holding back from them, even now." He thought of Allie's reprimand on the phone. "I know they've noticed. And it probably hurts more than they let on." Miles looked down at the floor. "That's what I wanted to understand. I couldn't explain, to them or myself, how I can trust them and not trust them at the same time." He nodded to Merlin. "And it worked, because you hit the nail on the head. When you know something can hurt you, you'll always worry that it will. It works both ways."

Merlin thought of all the people he'd almost told his secret to: Arthur, Gwen, that Gwaine fellow, even Morgana back when she was firmly on the side of good. Lancelot had found out by accident, and had kindly accepted him even though Merlin got him in trouble. The few times he was around, he appreciated Lancelot as someone in the know. But if Lancelot were around long term, what would that be like? "Do you ever wish they'd never found out?"

Miles shook his head. "God, no! Not so far, anyway." He leaned towards Merlin. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's that people can surprise you. Sometimes for worse, yeah. But mostly for the better." He gave Merlin a look that reminded him eerily of Gaius. "All changes take time, Merlin. But you can't stop believing they're possible. I know how easy it is to get sucked into that mindset, but don't. The only certainty in life is that things will change. And that's not always a bad thing."

Merlin leaned back, pensive. He couldn't think of how to respond to that. But he did think of something Miles had neglected to mention. "Hold on," he said. "That vision you had to tell Allie, what was it about? And what about the book you mentioned earlier?"

.

Before Miles could respond, a door slammed somewhere above them. Miles stared at Merlin. "They're back!"

"We have to hide." So they scrambled to their feet and hid behind the huge stone column next to the stairs.

Moments later, they heard Balthazar and Dave trudge down the metal staircase into the lab. Merlin muttered a spell under his breath, eyes glowing, and suddenly they were able to see straight through the column.

Miles glanced at Merlin. "Very nice!" he whispered.

Merlin blushed and said, "Thanks." Then, they concentrated on the scene before them. The master and apprentice looked despondent as the entered the lab, Tank the dog tottling behind them. It took a moment for Miles and Merlin to realize: _They didn't have the Grimhold._

Dave drew a hand down his face, a wave of fatigue sweeping over him as he reached the bottom of the stairs. It had been a long night. From flooding the lab, to encountering Becky, teleporting with Merlin and Miles to his apartment, then racing back to the lab to save Balthazar and getting into a harrowing magical car chase. After all that, they'd still lost the doll to the Morganians.

But for once, it wasn't his fault.

"Okay. Balthazar?" Dave began. "Enough with the silent treatment. You have to tell me what happened back there."

"What more is there to say?" Balthazar grumbled as he tossed his hat onto the table, his back turned on Dave. "I got distracted. We lost the Grimhold. Case closed."

Dave wagged his finger. "No, but Horvath purposely changed that woman to look like Merlin's third apprentice because he knew it would distract you!" He had glimpsed the illusion for only a moment himself: a woman with striking features, dark eyes, and a curtain of jet black hair. "Balthazar, I have to know."

For long moments, the master and apprentice stood as still as statues, Dave's eyes boring into the back of Balthazar's head.

Then, just as if it seemed the silence would last all night... "Veronica."

Dave jolted. Whatever he had been expecting to hear, it hadn't been that. "Sorry?"

Balthazar turned to face Dave, his eyes shining. "Her name was Veronica." Galvanized, Balthazar threw off his trenchcoat, crossed to the other side of the room and picked up the Incantus, then seated himself on a set of stone steps. He motioned to the spot next to him, and Dave hustled over and sat down next to him. Balthazar opened the book across their laps, and began, in a low voice, "For centuries, Veronica, Horvath, and I were the only things standing between Morgana and humankind's destruction." Balthazar turned a page and continued, "Our friendship and our magic were what Veronica and I depended on." He traced a finger over the page, which must have pictured the woman in question.

Dave nodded, then said softly, "You fell for her, didn't you."

Balthazar swallowed, unable to speak for a moment. Then he nodded. "I fell for her."

He unfolded Veronica's life for Dave (and, unknowingly, for Miles and Merlin as well). He spoke reverently of her power as a sorceress, her wish, like Dave, to be normal. "I fell for her..." Then, he glanced at Dave, "...and so did Horvath."

Dave's mouth hung open, but not in the comical way it normally did. He seemed genuinely affected by this, folding his hand over his mouth.

"That's why Horvath betrayed us."

Miles jolted. "Oh. _Oh_! He was the older sorcerer!" he whispered.

Merlin sighed. Of course one of his own apprentices had turned against him. _'Figures.'_ Still, it made sense. He had seen love drive people to do drastic things. He thought of Uther's rage in the wake of his wife's death. Of Gaius risking everything to save Alice, not once but twice. And he swallowed, remembering Freya. He'd almost left Camelot for her. From Dave's expression, he was in love with someone himself. He understood Balthazar's pain.

Dave gulped. "So... so what happened to Veronica? Is she...?"

Balthazar sighed, then looked him in the eye. "Remember the fusion spell? The one sorcerer who'd successfully pulled it off?"

Dave stared at him, puzzled. Then he gasped. _"No."_

Balthazar nodded, solemn. "When Horvath betrayed us and Morgana attacked, Veronica knew one of us had to survive to find the Prime Merlinean. So she sealed Morgana inside her own body, weakening her. And I... I locked them both in the last doll of the Grimhold."

Dave shook his head, his voice cracking as he said, "For a _thousand years_, you've been carrying her around with you, in the Grimhold."

Balthazar took out a handkerchief from his pocket. Unwrapping it, he pulled out a long, jeweled necklace, lacing it between his fingers. "I was going to give this to her that night."

Tears came to Merlin's eyes. He had to clench his fist in his mouth to stop a sob bursting out of him. It had been two years since losing Freya, but as he thought of Balthazar's lost love, the pain of his own suddenly came roaring back. Miles drew back in surprise, but remembered Merlin's loss. He clasped a hand over his shoulder.

But Merlin wasn't the only one. Dave stared at the necklace, then down at the book, more solemn than he'd ever been in his life. He'd been treating this whole thing as a game, and then as a punishment. He'd been thinking only of how it affected his life, not realizing just how many had sacrificed for the sake of his destiny.

Balthazar.

Veronica.

Even Merlin himself.

As Balthazar stood up and moved away from Dave, Dave stared after him. "I'm sorry," he whispered, not sure what else to say. It felt hollow, not nearly enough compensation for what his master had gone through.

Then, just like before, he felt something inside him steel itself. He glanced at the ring on his finger, the gift passed from Kilgharrah and Merlin, to Balthazar, to him, and nodded to himself. He knew what he had to do. "Okay, Balthazar."

Balthazar stopped in his tracks, turning towards him.

"We are going to get Veronica out. And destroy Morgana. Whatever it takes, I swear I'll make this right."

Balthazar stared at him, impressed. Then his eyes narrowed. "What's happened to you?"

Dave's eyes widened as he remembered his uninvited guests were _still in the lab_. "Nothing!"

"You're still a bad liar," his master drawled.

Dave looked offended, then sighed. Time to own up. "Okay, yeah, you're right. Something did happen – "

He smirked. "Other than Becky?"

Dave scowled. How could he have known about that? "Yes." He rubbed his hands together. Balthazar deserved to know Merlin was here, but that didn't make him any less nervous. "Just... don't freak out, okay?" Dave put the book down, pressed up onto his feet, and called, "Uh, guys? I know you're still here so, uh, come out, come out, wherever you are!"

Miles and Merlin exchanged nervous glances, Merlin wiping the remaining tears from his eyes. Then, slowly, they came out from behind the column and walked into the light.

Balthazar took one look at Merlin and froze, the former master and apprentice standing face-to-face for the first time in centuries. Dave watched with his fingers crossed behind his back, silently pleading for a positive outcome. For moments that felt like hours, the only sound in the room was the distant buzz of the lights. Then finally, the sorcerer stalked across the room towards the time-displaced young man.

Merlin forced himself to stay still. He reminded himself that although Balthazar was a stranger to him, the man had dedicated himself to a thousand-year mission in his name. So he held his breath, waiting for the old sorcerer to make the first move.

Which he did, by clapping his hands over Merlin's cheeks and proceeding to squish his face.

Merlin muttered, "Er, what are you – ?"

"Sssssshhhh!" Balthazar hissed. He pressed his fingertips against the cheekbones as though he was searching for something. Then suddenly, he grinned. "It is you. HA!" He slapped Merlin on the shoulders, making everyone jump. "Look at you! I knew you and Dave were related, but only now do I see the resemblance." He reached up and rumpled Merlin's dark hair.

Merlin gave a tentative smile, glad the sorcerer wasn't upset with Dave. The apprentice in question sighed in relief, and caught Miles sending him two thumbs up.

Balthazar winced as his eyes landed on the side of Merlin's head. "Woo, those ears. I can see why you grew your hair out. Even I'm having a hard time taking you seriously."

Merlin covered his ears. "Hey!" They weren't _that_ big.

Balthazar smirked. "No, your ears are fine." His expression softened. "It's funny. I was about your age when I met you – older you, that is." He glanced down at his ring. "It's all come full circle." He was contemplative for a moment, but then, as if someone flipped a switch, he turned and rounded on Dave. "Happy as I am to see you, however, you are not supposed to be here." He folded his arms, eyes boring into Dave. "So, care to tell me how that happened?"

Dave flinched. "Okay, well, according to the ring, he actually is supposed to be here! So, no harm no foul, right?"

Balthazar, stoic, raised an eyebrow. "Your ring told you?"

Dave glared, open-mouthed. "You brought the eagle on the Chrysler Building to life, but you doubt a talking ring?"

But Balthazar remained stern. "I suppose Kilgharrah also told you I was going to need rescuing?" he asked sarcastically.

"Actually, that was me," Miles said, raising his hand. "Though I think he knew too."

Balthazar swivelled around to face the boy, a bemused expression crossing his face. "Ah, well, thanks for that. I'll get to you in a second."

"Hold on," Merlin interrupted, pointing at Balthazar. "You called the ring 'Kilgharrah.'"

Dave glanced between Merlin and Balthazar, confused. Then it sunk in. He let out a groan. "Oh my God! You _knew_, didn't you!"

Balthazar grinned. "Sorry, Dave, couldn't help myself."

Dave felt himself starting to get angry, but then he thought of Veronica, of the pain in Balthazar's eyes as he stared at that necklace. So, resigned, he said, "You really couldn't have given me a heads up? A little one?"

"Well, I didn't know it would be tonight, so that was a pleasant surprise," Balthazar said with a nonchalant shrug. "My master only told me I would see him again, and it would be after I found the Prime Merlinean. Kilgharrah, I carried him around for a thousand years. I couldn't not know. Although," he said, finally turning his attention to the high school student, "I wasn't aware of a third party involved. Who are you exactly?"

Miles blinked owlishly at the imposing sorcerer. "M-Miles, I'm – Miles," the boy stuttered.

Miles saw something in the man's eyes glitter, bringing to mind Albus Dumbledore (book version, not movie version). Balthazar's face, however, remained impassive. "Ah," he said in a crisp tone. "And what is it you're doing here?"

"He's a sorcerer too," Dave said. "And sees the future, apparently. He arrived with Merlin."

"Really?" Balthazar remarked, drawing closer to Miles. "A spell meant to summon Merlin also happened to summon you?"

Miles shrugged, avoiding the penetrating gaze.

Balthazar's eyes narrowed, but still, he smiled. "Well, in any case, glad to have you aboard. We need all the help we can get." Balthazar alighted the stone stairs and stood looking down at them, the light from the archway framing him from behind. "Now that our enemies have gotten the Grimhold, the balance has tipped in their favor. However, Horvath will need some extra power to break through the last layers, so we have some time to get it back. But we cannot waste it. We need to retrieve it by tomorrow night if we want our best chance to stop The Rising from happening." He glanced at Dave. "Put your...'old man shoes' back on. We have work to do."

* * *

><p><em>Ah Balthazar, always has a trick up his sleeve XD<em>

_I have set up a tumblr page for this story! Check out for character bios, gif sets, and other fun extra content :) (full link in profile)_

_We're getting pretty close to the end now, but there's plenty more surprises in store! My goal is to have this finished before Avalon High turns 5 in November. Next up, our band of heroes go to get the Grimhold back from the Morganians. But what will the Morganians have in store for them?_

_Please make sure to review, so I know you guys are still out there and hanging on! Thanks to FateofChaos and NightsAnger for reviewing last chapter, to Merlyn Pyndragon for beta reading, and for muzicdreamz for continued support._

_~*Astraea*_


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